The Wheel of Samsara
by Mercurial Weather
Summary: There is no coincidence only hitsuzen. Light's and L's paths had crossed in life. In death, unable to go to heaven or hell they found themselves again on a mad Red Queen race to get the upper hand. Each chapter can be read independently. The last chapter is M for content. Ch.3 is L's belated birthday gift, so Light gets his comeuppance.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Hitsuzen

"_Sucker love is heaven sent. You pucker up, our passion's spent. My heart's a tart, your body's rent. My body's broken, yours is bent. Carve your name into my arm. Instead of stressed I lie here charmed. 'Cause there's nothing else to do. Every me and every you." From Placebo's song Every Me and Every You (Album: Without You I'm Nothing 1999)._

_AN: This story is a DN and XXX-holic crossover. It is both an April fools prank (on Light) and a belated birthday gift. The gift is also twofold, for my favorite character: Watanuki and for a girl who since the fifteenth has turned 16. Happy birthday sweetheart. Auntie Merc loves you dearly. I know you like watching Light twist so enjoy, darling. Oh, and I've also included a possible answer to your question of why L doesn't sound English._

_All the chapters are going to be called Hitsuzen for reasons explained within the fic. They all are basically one-shots. I'm probably sticking to stanzas from Placebo's marvelously wicked song for the quotes while they last._

Light Yagami woke up with a start. He sat brusquely on the cobblestone landing on top of a long stone staircase in which he had been lying and looked around. Behind him the staircase stretched far down; it was surrounded by greenery, though the steps were well taken care of and free of plants and dangerous moss. Above him was a small wooden house in traditional style. He fought the sense of disorientation that came over him, forced himself to calm down, breathing slowly. Once his pulse was lowered to acceptable levels, he got ready to assess both the situation and himself in a rational fashion.

As part of Kira's special task force he had received some training that could aid him in a situation just like this. Since he had a firm grasp of who he was, he started by asking himself three question: What date is it? Where am I? How I got here? He was only able to answer one of those questions, the date: January 28th 2010, a little more than one month before his 24th birthday. He didn't have the faintest clue of where he was and how he had gotten there.

He felt the grip of fear getting hold of him and that was rare in itself. Not only was he a police officer, trained to respond under harsh conditions; Light Yagami was Kira, God of Justice. He did not panic, he inspired fear in the heart of the evildoers, before those treacherous hearts stopped beating for good upon his irrevocable order. His hand went not to the gun in the side holster underneath his jacket, but to the watch on his wrist, where a sliver of the Death Note was hidden. That was telling of which he considered the most dangerous weapon at his disposal. He drew comfort from it.

He forced himself to get up from the floor and muttered sourly: "Get a grip, Light."

The young man seemed to appear from thin air. He was wearing a red kimono with a _Hanagurima_ (flower cart) design with a _Noshi awabi_ (origami garland) colorful _obi_ belt. It was the kind of thing a very wealthy and traditional bride would wear for her wedding day. He was also wearing red rimmed glasses that matched perfectly the shade of the kimono. How could Light hadn't noticed him before with that outfit?

The boy had tussled dark hair. And behind the glasses he had mismatched eyes. Exact numbers of the prevalence of heterochromia vary greatly, depending on which study you focus in, but in all cases is less than 1 percent of the world population. Light remembered that fact from an investigation of a suspect in a white collar theft who had the condition. However, in this case, such rarity, alongside the ostentatious kimono, was another troublesome sign pointing towards a trade in which such a thing could be marketed at a high cost. Those cat-like, indigo and green eyes could be very appealing to some.

The boy couldn't have been much older than eighteen or nineteen -if he was even that old, though Light was positive his employers would say he was. - He was leaning casually against a column of the vine covered arbor gateway that Light now realized was the entrance to a _roji_ tea garden. The boy was languidly smoking on a long-stem delicately carved tortoiseshell pipe. He was probably the host, waiting to greet the guests and lead them into the tea house, where the _chanoyu_ ceremony would be performed.

Light cocked an eyebrow at the sight of him. He had met a few eccentric tea ceremony performers in his time, but this guy took the prize. His inner cop wondered if the youngster was only smoking tobacco, for he had an air of lethargic languor about him that could very well point towards a more nefarious substance being inside that pipe. But he let that slide and focused on the kimono he was wearing, which was slightly more problematic. What kind of guy would wear such a risqué kimono? And what kind of tea house would employ such a guy?

Not to mention that it was unusual to perform an afternoon tea ceremony in the dead of winter. Winter tea ceremonies were usually done at the break of dawn or in the night, the natural dark and candle light were often used as contrasts. Not that it felt like winter at all. The air was warm and fragrant from the green plants in the garden, with verbena and rosemary being the more prevalent aromas. It felt more like a summer afternoon than late January. Flowers are not used in _roji _gardens, so as not to distract guest from the meditative state conductive to a successful _chanoyu_ ceremony. Which made him go back to the very loud red kimono the guy was wearing. The tea ceremony was supposed to be contemplative, man's kimonos for it were minimalistic, not loud… That boy's outfit was one very short step away from cross-dressing. What was that place? He was still turning that thought around in his head when the young man spoke.

His voice sounded educated, with good enunciation and a pleasant tenor timber. He smiled warmly at him: "I'm glad you are finally awake, Detective Yagami. It took you a bit longer this time. We were starting to worry."

That we set off all kind of alarms inside him. Who exactly was the guy talking about when he said we? Light narrowed his eyes: "Do I know you?"

The guy stifled a chuckle: "Can we ever really know another person? Oft times we don't even get to fully know ourselves in what little time we dwell in the world. We are all capable of doing things we didn't think ourselves capable of doing."

Light smiled sardonically: "That is a rather convoluted answer for a straightforward question. The kind that is actually no answer at all. Evasiveness only serves to arouse suspicion."

"Suspicion only arises in suspicious natures, Detective. Which I guess you are. As for a straightforward question… Isn't that an intriguing concept? I don't think I've ever really encountered one of those in all the years that I have lived."

"Give it time, you are young, I'm sure one of those will come punch you in the face in due time."

The guy laughed goodheartedly: "Time is for me to handle and for you to wonder about, Detective… As pleasant as this exchange always is, I think we should rather move along. The clock is ticking and our _matcha _tea awaits. It would be a pity to miss the sundown. I've also prepared some cake, you haven't eaten in a while and unaddressed hungers seem to make you testy."

Light frowned, this guy's vagaries were beginning to get on his nerves. _Unaddressed hungers my boot. What does this clown think he knows about me? _Both as Kira and as Detective Light Yagami he was used to getting answers when he posed questions.

"Wait a minute, you once more imply that we have met before, when I'm sure I've never before laid eyes on you. You don't seem like someone easy to forget."

"Memory can be tricky here, but thank you for the compliment, Detective."

"Oh, I didn't mean it as a compliment. Not at all."

"_Choose not to be harmed- and you won't feel harmed. Don't feel harmed- and you haven't been… It can ruin your life only if it ruins your character."_

"That is Marcus Aurelius, meditations 4.7 and 4.8. You don't look like a stoic."

"Looks can be deceiving, Detective."

"And at times they can be a very effective way of telling the world about who we are and about our intentions. That kimono of yours, for example, it gives out a very clear message."

He rose an eyebrow: "Does it? And what message would that be, Detective Yagami?"

Just that instant the kimono slid on the guy's very naked shoulder. He wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Light gulped and signaled the offending sleeve: "You tell me, Mr..."

He fixed the wardrobe malfunction, tightened the obi about his waist and laughed: "Sometimes a kimono is just a kimono, I woke up feeling like using red this morning. I find the color empowering. And I had the feeling that today I was going to need all the power I could command. This is my best red kimono, the lining is better suited for winter. With this warm weather, I should have probably used a _yukata,_ but this is just the right tone of red for me today. So, as a compromise, I decided to wear it with minimal underwear. Not that I owe you or anyone an explanation of how I dress. There is no harm in giving in to such innocent whims once in a while. You can call me Watanuki, Detective Light Yagami."

Watanuki means April 1st. That is April's Fools day, a day for tomfoolery in some countries. That was also quite obviously a _nom de guerre _for a smart-ass boy with a jejune sense of humor. A whimsical name for someone who peddled a trade that promoted quenching unaddressed hungers... It was one of those places after all. And what that also meant was that he couldn't just write this bozo off with the Death Note. Was the use of a pseudonym purposeful, did the guy know who he was really dealing with or was that just… corporate policy? He'd have to figure it out, just like everything else. The weirdo in the red kimono wasn't going to give him the answers he wanted. That much was clear.

Light grit his teeth, rudeness should be a crime. Giving him a pseudonym while using his full name was a calculated insult that hadn't gone unnoticed. And Kira only knew one punishment for any crime. It was times like that in which Light almost wished he had stricken the Shinigami's Eyes bargain with Ryuk… Almost… Only an idiot of Amane's caliber would strike such a bargain.

Inside his head he never thought of the wretched girl by her given name: Misa, it would have implied an intimacy that he found deeply repugnant. Once the stupid Goth had managed to have him grabbed by the balls aided by her lovestruck Shinigami. Inside his head he admitted that much. Light Yagami did not cultivate self-deception, the only way to learn from a mistake is to acknowledge it. After devising Rem's demise, he had kept her as a follower, a cover to mollify his family's outdated notions of normalcy and an occasional bed warmer, but nothing else.

Going through facts helped him keep his calm. It also helped him put the guy and his troublesome kimono in the right perspective: he was a minor nuisance and nothing else. But it still didn't solve the matter of what on earth was he doing there. He decided to approach the problem from a different angle.

"I seem to have forgotten the purpose of my presence here and you seem to have some knowledge of it, perhaps you can help me."

"Oh, Detective, I can't answer you that point blank. You have to figure it out yourself, or else, what would be the fun in it?"

The little freak was right about something, he was feeling testy: "How am I supposed to figure anything out if you keep answering me with evasions and the daily aphorism?"

His polite smile broadened into true humor: "You can ask me anything about me and the shop and I will answer truthfully, it can't be no other way. Those are the rules."

Light laughed meanly: "You'll answer me truthfully if I ask about yourself? Just like you did when I asked for your name and you replied to me that you are called April 1st?"

"My name really is Kimihiro Watanuki. My family name was chosen when my ancestors emigrated from China. And my parents had the family's weird sense of humor too. They named me Kimihiro which is prophet. But with a name like yours, you can hardly throw the first stone. Your name is written with three _kanjis_: _Yoru _which stands for night, _Kami _which stands for god and _Tsuki_ which stands for moon and that you read as Light Yagami. Isn't that right, Detective?

"How can you know my name or how it is written?"

"I can write mine for you, if you want us to be even. You hate to feel at disadvantage and I want you to be at ease." He said grabbing a long stick and tracing the _kanjis_ in the sand of a stone garden. The guy had nice calligraphy and a proper writing style.

Still, Light felt the perverse pleasant anticipation of being able to feel despise for our fellow human being. A Zen garden in a _roji_? That was tacky. _I don't know what you think you know about me, but this ends now. You are nothing but a tacky whore in a tacky brothel regardless of how refined you think you are and if that is your real name, you are a dead whore too._

"Do you disapprove, Detective Yagami?" asked the boy with a mockingly raised eyebrow.

Light felt shocked at the question as if the guy had intruded in his thoughts.

The guy stifled a laugh: "I mean, do you disapprove of a Zen garden, in a traditional _roji_? You are too young for being a traditionalist. But then, twenty-three is not nearly old enough to be going around in a beige coat, tucked up white shirt and green khakis. Not even your fashionable hairdo can offset that outdated fashion choice. The hairdo is a bit off too in another regard: the casual look should be effortless, yours is too calculated, too perfect to be really perfect. The kind of beauty that can move the soul and shake it to its foundations is only achieve with asymmetry and a measure of imperfection. For only that which is unique can be truly breathtaking. When you strive too hard to make everything the way tradition dictates it to be, the best you can hope for is to achieve a soulless beauty. I, on the contrary, like to get creative, mix things up and allow experiences that cannot be repeated to blossom. Why don't you try something new the next time you are at the hairdresser? I think a side hard part with a high skin fade would become you. It would let the world see those piercing eyes of yours unhindered. Eyes are the gateways to the soul, though, perhaps, it is your intention to keep them hidden, Detective precisely because of that."

Amane had said pretty much the same though not in such a verbose way one time she had felt entitled to tell him her opinion on the way he dressed. Was the guy flirting or just trying to annoy him? A vein started pulsing in Light's forehead: "I like to keep things straight. Simplicity is a sign of true elegance."

"What is the point of elegance, if it cannot bring you joy, detective? It is plainly clear to me that your bid for turning this complex world into black and white simplicity is not making anyone happy, not even you."

"Is joy supposed to be the highest aspiration? Is that what you are selling in this shop: cheap thrills?"

His smile widened: "In a way I am selling happiness. And the kind of happiness that can be bought and sold is not one of the highest quality, though it is not cheap either. All things have a price and the price for getting what your heart desires is always high, Detective. Though I prefer to think that what we are giving people is a fair proportion of their deepest desires paired up with what they sorely need. We are not selling mystical lemons here."

Light raised an eyebrow: "That sounds like a sure recipe for damnation. Most people don't know what is good for them, as for what they need, most are in want of a good whooping to get them straighten. And no snake oil peddler ever admits to be selling hoaxes."

He laughed unbridled: "Most people don't notice that; but, then again, you are smarter than most people. Regardless, even smart guys are only usually able to see the speck in their brothers' eye. No one ever thinks their own desires may be sinful or wrong."

Light was not religious and his family was Shintoist; however he was an educated man, so he got the bible reference. In that he could repay the little whore in kind: "People in general neglect to see the log in their own eyes. Just as sinners go around casting first stones, this world is imperfect in its nature...It is in a bad need of a cleansing." That is why Kira was so important, because it was the only one who could do it. He looked at the guy appraisingly: "Is it ever possible to know what people truly want?"

"It is here, we are always able to give people what they really want, even when they themselves don't know what they are looking for, we work hard at guaranteeing our customer's satisfaction."

Light scoffed: "I bet you do. So how do you go about it? Do your clients fill out some inquest? Do you conduct interviews while you serve them tea?"

"This kind of thing cannot be rushed, it takes up its own time and there is no denying it. My clients and I usually have plenty of time at our disposal to get to know each other inside out, but I'm typically able to see just what it is that they want by watching them walk through our door. I learned that from the best. Yūko could figure people out with a glance."

"Really, just that easy you are able to see people's deepest desires?" Before he could stop himself, he said: "Would you be able to do that with me?"

Who knows what had come over him. Light regretted it as soon as the words left his lips, he didn't want the little freak to get the wrong idea.

Watanuki leaned towards Light and asked confidentially: "Would you want that from me, Detective? Would you be able to take it, if I were willing to give it to you?"

Light couldn't help blushing, half of it was from rightful indignation, of the other half he would rather not think about.

The silence was turning uncomfortable when a couple of girls in primp western dresses rushed into the garden yelling: "Watanuki, Watanuki, you have to come in, he is doing it again! The cake is almost gone! And he bounced Mokona like a ball. We tried to stop him, but he was very rude to us..."

One of the girls with short straight pink hair with two buns sniggered and pointed to the other with long curly blue hair in pigtails: "Maru called him names and threw water with her water gun at him, Watanuki, until he let Mokona go. He got even angrier and we grabbed Mokona and ran. She is in the kitchen drinking sake, for her nerves she says. We don't know where he is."

Watanuki rose an eyebrow: "You shouldn't call people names, Maru, or throw water at them. Even when they are being rude to us; that is no excuse for us to be rude to them. And you Moro, you shouldn't be telling on your sister, it is not nice. And Mokona doesn't need a pretext to drink like a Cossack, but this guy had no right mistreating her. You should have come to me right away. Do that the next time."

Watanuki dreaded it, but he was fairly certain that there was going to be a next time. Once more Detective Yagami was adding two and two and getting one thousand… He stifled a sigh. Time is such a complex concept, so intimately linked to the way we are, we live in it and die by it… Some would think that trying to teach manners to a couple of Golems that would never grow up was a waste of that precious time, but Watanuki thought that everything that furthered harmony in this world couldn't possibly be a wasted effort. Though some efforts to achieve harmony were harder to make than others. Like dealing with their irksome house guest. This sigh he just couldn't stifle, the guy could be a veritable pain in the ass, it almost made him miss Dōmeki… Almost...

"You'll have to excuse me, Detective. I have to go deal with a minor household crisis, before we can continue our chat. Maru, Moro, why don't you show Detective Yagami to the tea house and have him wait there for me. You can practice pouring him some tea. It was almost ready anyway; you only need to pour the water in the _chawan _bowl I've already prepped and whisk it. Remember: make sure the water temperature is right, it must be exactly 175 degrees F a little shy from boiling. Handle the thermometer and the brassier with care, I don't want you to get burnt. Scoop exactly two grams of _matcha _powder, each scoop with the ivory _chasaku _is about one gram. Hold the _chasen_ (bamboo whisk) firmly. Use brisk, straight wrist movements to get the foam just right. The cake is gone, but we still have some cinnamon and clove snap cookies hidden in the pantry in that place he hasn't found yet, offer some to the Detective too."

The kids were too young to be practicing anything in a place like that. The guy was barely legal himself. It all seemed highly inappropriate and perhaps that was the reason why Light was there. He also felt troubled by the description of what apparently was a disgruntled client abusing a drunkard whore. The y_akuza_ were often clients and proprietors of these kind of places. He tried to glean some information from the girls, but conversing with them was like trying to chat with magpies while herding cats. They kept jumping from one inane topic to another going back and forth, often replying in unison. That is when they didn't reply in the exact opposite way. It was amazing how much they could blabber without revealing any useful information.

A few minutes into the interrogation he was getting a splitting headache, so he gave up. He sat there sipping his green _matcha_ tea on a celadon glazed demitasse of eggshell porcelain hand painted with birds and flowers. That Watanuki guy really liked to mix things up. But, though Light was a bit of a traditionalist who usually preferred drinking on the _chawan_ bowl, the contrast of the dark green _matcha_ tea in the jade green of the tea cup was surprisingly pleasing. He wondered if the tea service was Chinese like the guy's ancestors. Was this a _triad_ tea house, instead of being of the _yakuza_? Not that the crime syndicate that this place catered to really mattered, but it would be nice to have a heads-up.

The tea turned out to be fairly decent too, given that it was made by the scatter brain girls. He was not usually tempted by sweets, but he ate the cookies that were truly delicious. He enjoyed the silence until the guy came back.

Watanuki took his sweet time to return. Lord only knows what it took to handle the unruly client, when he came back he was sporting a bruising on his nape. Light shuddered thinking: _Is that a love bite? Who gets that on the back of the neck? How disgusting!_

Out loud he asked: "Is everything alright?"

The guy didn't answer, not until he had poured himself a cup of green tea that he downed almost in one gulp. He sighed: "No, not really. This is getting really tiresome. For every step we go forward, we fall back two."

A deep frown creased his forehead. Watanuki began pacing the length of the room and ranting in a high voice and at such speed that Light was barely able to make out what the guy was saying: "I like to think of myself as a very patient man. And I've dealt with difficult clients before, but you two are quite frankly impossible. He is an inconsiderate narcissist with no regards for the people he is living with. I've seen pigs with better hygiene and manners. It is a feat of mental strength to be able to eat after watching him gorge himself on sweets and I'm used to living with people who can eat twice their body weight. Certain magic requires tons of energy to sustain. As for you, you are a paranoid murderous egomaniac, obsessed with weird sex practices, most of which I had no idea even existed before making your acquaintance and being accused of indulging them. I'm convinced that some of them might only exist in the twisted recesses of your mind, Detective. I've perused Master Clow's Library Arcana and I have yet to find one single mention to what ungodly thing a backwards ice-cream soda with a twist might be."

The guy was no making any sense, was he on some kind of drug, Light wondered. That was usually the case with people in his trade. They got hooked on substances to allow themselves to pull through what they did for a living: "What the hell is a backwards ice-cream soda with a twist?"

"You tell me. That is what you said, along with some other things I'd rather not remember when you asked exactly what services we were offering here a couple of times away. I still have nightmares about some of it. But as to what a backwards ice-cream soda may be, I have no idea yet and that may be a blessing. Everything, I mean literally everything can be found in Master Clow's books, even the unmentionable practices of worship of Ancient Cosmic Monstrosities whose very mention can drive men mad. Frankly, I find your whole _yakuza _brothel delusion deeply insulting. It is a direct hit to my self-esteem that the first thing that crosses your mind every single time you see me is that I'm some sort of perverted tempter intent on seducing you. Hah! You should be so lucky to be able to afford my services or hold my interest, if that were my inclination and or line of work."

"I don't care what you do for a living or how much you charge for it. Though I must inform you that anything you say may have legal consequences. I'm still a cop, mister. And I don't appreciate the implication that I'd be interested in any of your inclinations or services. Whatever the reasons I'm here may be that is not it, of that I'm sure."

Watanuki sat right in front of Light, kneeling gracefully and looked at him with his dichromatic eyes. He inhaled and spoke in a calmer tone that made his speech intelligible: "Detective Yagami, do you truly not remember the reasons that brought you here?"

Light never really enjoyed being in close quarters with anyone. He only put up with it for the sake of keeping a facade of sociability, but this guy's close proximity was more than a little disturbing, it took all his will power not to pull away brusquely. Stiffening his back he replied in the most neuter voice he could conjure up: "I haven't got the faintest clue, I was hoping you could help me get some clarity."

He sniggered: "That is what I have been trying to do all along, Detective! Only with clarity about your past and by owning what you have done can you ever hope for a future. Your choices make it impossible for you to go either to Heaven or Hell, the only way for you is to expiate your karma in the _dukkha_ -the dissatisfaction and pain- of the wheel of _Samsara_, reincarnating until you eliminate, cease -_nirodha_\- the _samudaya_, the cause of that pain and strive for the eightfold path _marga_ to finally scape the cycle. You two are a very special cases for you keep coming here as yourselves. But if you insist on holding onto your egos and grievances, all this will be in vain."

"I don't understand what the relevance of that religious mumbo-jumbo is. What are you trying to do? What is your angle?"

"My angle? Do you think I want this? For heaven sakes, you two must have some friends in higher planes to be able to get this chance after what you both have done! Playing with the fate of the world like children for your own amusement… Still, it would be a pity to have it wasted. Buddha only knows what I have done to deserve this rat wheel. Hard as I try to figure it out, nothing I could have possibly done can justify this _dukkha_ for me." The guy once more inhaled deeply: "Please, Detective, the stakes have never been higher, make your best effort to put that bright mind of yours to good use and try to remember. Why don't you start by figuring out what you were doing right before coming here?"

The sliding latticed_ shōji _door opened to let someone in. The man was wearing a blue kimono in the traditional ocean wave crest pattern _Sei Gai Ha Mon_. Below it he had chemise of the purest white. The demure elegance of his attire was belied by the irregular mane of black hair spiking every which way from his head, as well as his listless, slouching frame and his naked twitchy feet.

Light Yagami breathed in deep, he could have recognized those gnarly toes anywhere after spending a couple of sleepless night staring at them when L had insisted to handcuff Light to him and Light had insisted that they slept facing opposite sides of the bed.

He saw red. Anger twisting his handsome features. Of course L was behind this! He had drugged him and took him to a deviant whore house. He was probably trying to break him in order to get a confession out of him and he had been disoriented enough that it could have worked. The bastard. With an angry growl he muttered: "Ryuzaki."

The man smiled like some derange panda cartoon, his face a sickly powdery white with deep dark bags underneath his insanely focused eyes. He said chirpily: "Top of the morning to you, Light. It feels like I just saw you yesterday. Probably because I did. There is no need to use that pseudonym anymore. You can call me Lawliet now."

"I'll call you something alright… _Fuzakeru na!_"

Watanuki moaned, all hope of establishing a positive rapport was gone now. Those two were the very definition of an antagonistic relationship. He couldn't help nagging: "I told you to wait in the parlor until I called you. Why is it that following a simple order is so hard for someone who claims to be the greatest detective in the world?"

L protested frowning like a toddler about to throw an epic tantrum: "I'm sick and tire of waiting in the parlor. There is nothing to do there. If I had a computer, a real one, not that useless desktop, I could pass the time. I've already finished all the cake after having to fight the black _debu_ bunny for it and I can feel my blood sugar dropping as we speak."

Watanuki sighed: "You lost the privilege of using my laptop after spilling your tea over it. I thought you had ruined it."

L smiled crookedly: "I fix it, didn't I? It's not the first time it happens to me."

"Oh, believe me, it is the last time, at least while you are under my roof, Lawliet. The cake was not only for you, you were supposed to share it with all of us! What kind of person eats a whole cake? I would have baked you your favorite strawberry short bread, if you had behaved well. But after bouncing Mokona who is not a bunny, you do not deserve my cake. And stop calling her _debu_, it's not polite and it is not true, she is not fat, she is naturally round." Who would have thought the day would come that he would be defending Mokona of all people? He touched the sleeve of the wave crest kimono horrified: "And look at what you have done to my favorite blue kimono! It is covered in chocolate _ganache_! That was a hundred percent silk you oaf, it will never come off! There may still be a chance to salvage it, if we flush it with soda water and use an organic stain rub right now…"

L scoffed: "I don't know why you are so obsessed with clothes. All I ever need is a pair of jeans and a white long sleeve t-shirt."

"Well I don't own any of those and since you have ruined your own clothes last time, ripping them off to shreds like some maniac while you two were going at each other's throats, you have to make do with mine. It's not like we can get out and shop for new clothes. Besides, we've been over this, you don't really need sugar and your presence here could trigger another episode…"

Light scoffed: "Your favorite strawberry short cake? Sharing each other's clothes after tearing the other ones to shreds? Well, aren't you cozy with the cross-dresser? I didn't know you were a regular in places like this, Lawliet. Though I should have suspected it, there were plenty of telling signs."

Then it hit him, he did know L's true name, Rem had written it in her Death Note and the man had passed from a heart attack. Or so he had thought. There was something terribly wrong with all this, and for what little he could surmise of the setup, the freak in the red kimono was in cahoots with the freak in the blue kimono.

He drew out his gun: "I don't know what is happening here, but I want answers and I want them now!"

"Oh Detective, please put away that gun, it won't do you any good here. And you might as well forget about trying to use the Death Note, it won't work here either. Nothing can come out of using a weapon in a place like this. You'll just reset the cycle..."

Light smiled with a tad of hysteria in his face: "On the contrary I think a whole lot can come out from this gun." Just to prove his point he fired one shot at a tree and was satisfied with the result: "Now, if you don't want what happened to that tree to happen to you, you are going to start answering my questions right now."

L sniggered: "That won't work 'ere."

Light growled: "Want to bet?"

"Deal, if that gun helps you get what you want, I'll be your slave, mate. If it doesn't, then you will shut your pie hole and listen to what we need to tell you."

"_Aho ka?_ Is that your idea of a joke? I have the gun and the Death Note. I'm the one in control here!"

L denied: "No you are not. Nobody 'ere controls bollocks. I thought he did at first," He said signaling Watanuki with a bob of his head: "But the black bunny owns him and even that ball o' fat is imprisoned 'ere. I'd thought you'd have figure it out already by now, you used to be smarter, mate."

"What's with the accent?"

"I'm one quarter English and was raised in England, dumbarse: This is how I normally talk. I'm fluent in several languages and I usually adapt my accent to my interlocutor in order to make it easier to interact with me. A neuter accent helps them take me in better. I have enough eccentricities that it can be hard for most people to take me whole."

"Is that some kind of innuendo?"

"Take your mind out of the gutter. If I'd wanted to shag you, I had plenty of chances while I had you chained. Don't think I didn't notice the hopeful eyes… I'm not that interested in sex, it detracts from your ability to focus on important things. But I'm not completely opposed to it. At times it can help you relax. Is that what it takes for you to listen to us? The brain is the biggest sexual organ, maybe shagging with someone who has one for a change will help you finally unclench. I don't mind either gender. I prefer tops, though. Want me to unclog ye ol' pipe work? Come 'ere, luv, give us a snog."

"Don't come closer! And stop talking like that, it is very disturbing."

"Toning down the accent helped keep the sheep quiet and it also helped conceal my identity. But I don't see any need for pretense anymore. The cat is out of Schrödinger's bag, Light Yagami, Lord Kira or whatever the heck you are calling yourself nowadays. And by the cat who is halfway to nowhere, I hope you know I mean you, mate."

"Don't test me, Lawliet… I will kill you. And I'll make sure it is for real this time."

L laughed: "Been there, done that, didn't stick. My mates got you, didn't stick either. We have killed each other every which way about a hundred times since you came, but nothing sticks here, mate. Get on with the program." He snapped his index and thumb in the same bizarre way he picked up things.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out, if you think you are so smart, I did after the first ten times, arsehole."

"You are the_ bakayarou!_"

Watanuki exhaled frustrated: "You two are worse than preschoolers, name-calling, wagers, mind games, death treats... And that is only in the last three minutes! Have you managed to learn nothing from your lives?!"

Light cocked the gun and brandished it menacingly: "Enough with this nonsense. I'll kill your little _koibito_ in the red kimono first, if you don't give me what I want."

Lawliet's little _koibito_? That was it. Watanuki had had it! His eyes shone dangerously, his opaque green eye turned golden. A circle of fiery symbols appeared as a halo behind his head. He grabbed the gun with his hand and spoke in a voice several degrees colder than glacial: "And exactly what is it that you want, Detective? Just be very careful what you wish for here, because every deal is binding and final. Do you remember what it was that you wanted or have you forgotten it along with everything else?"

Light frowned, it had been so clear just one instant before, now his mind was scrambled, he blinked: "I… What have you done to me? Was there something in the tea?" He started to feel dizzy. The world broke in shards of light and color like the insides of a kaleidoscope. His head started to spin and Light blacked out.

Watanuki felt like crying. Instead he punched the wall and only managed to hurt his knuckles: "This is useless, he almost had it and now he has lost it, again!"

L sniggered: "He is stubborn. That one is..."

"You are no prize either, and you didn't get it after ten times, try ten thousand and you'll be closer to the truth. Plus you wouldn't even be here, if you hadn't gone behind the NPA's backs and tested the Death Note on that death row inmate. You had to see it to believe it…Was your curiosity worth it, Lawliet?"

He didn't answer.

"Yes, I didn't think so. Help me carry him inside, this time we'll try starting in the bedroom, the guy is obsessed with that place, we might as well get it right out of the way… Perhaps then he will be willing to listen, really listen someone besides the voices inside his head. And, kindly, if you do want to help, don't come out until I tell you. Your presence turns him antagonistic. It would also help if you stop trying to rattle his cage, all you manage to do is spook him and that leads nowhere. Though Buddha knows that if anyone needs to unclench is this man… Now get out of my blue kimono, I'm going to try to take the chocolate spot out of it. First I have to scrape the chocolate residue off. No, don't lick it! Who the hell raised you? Wolves?"

"Actually, I'm the product of a eugenics program to develop the perfect sleuth and I was raised under controlled environmental conditions and cognitive programming, mainly behaviorism and some gestalt, to warrant that I..."

What was it with these guys that could push the right buttons to make Watanuki lose it? He had grown so much since he started working with Yukō but these guys made him feel like an awkward schoolboy with low self-esteem. He needed to regain his composure.

"Quiet! We are going to meditate in silence until he wakes up again. _Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani Padme Hum._"

"A mantra is not silence and that mantra in particular invokes the Buddha's compassion. It is supposed to work in writing too, so if you really want silence then perhaps you should..."

Watanuki shoved a handful of snap cookies in the man's mouth. Silence, blessed silence… Almost… but the sound of molars crunching cookies was one he could live with. In fact, he would bake another batch while they waited for the Detective to reset. Cooking and baking calmed him. He was used to be around gluttons, though not quite like this one. This one went through sweets and life as if it were going out of style. Such hunger was hard to keep up with. He wouldn't be able to manage if he hadn't done Alice's Red Queen race before.

Again he thought of Dōmeki and Yūko with a pang of longing. He pushed it away, he had work to do if they were ever going to escape the time loop. While they laid the Detective in his futon and all while he cleaned his favorite blue kimono and baked, Watanuki kept invoking the aid of _Chenrezig_ the _bodhisattva_ of compassion inside his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Hitsuzen

"_Sucker love is known to swing. Prone to cling and waste these things. Pucker up for heaven's sake. There's never been so much at stake. I serve my head up on a plate. It's only comfort, calling late. 'Cause there's nothing else to do. Every me and every you." From Placebo's song Every Me and Every You (Album: Without You I'm Nothing 1999)._

_AN: I'm just posting two chapters for now. I will put the fic as complete because they are one shots, but I want to be able to go back to it. I kind of like the premise and I enjoyed trying to make the elegant Ukyo-e and Art Nouveau designs of Clamp into words. I had so much fun writing it, it's probably a sin. Oh and feel free to help yourself to the premise, just share if you do. I'd like to see what other kind of dukkha (karmic pain) someone else can come up with for these guys…_

_You might notice a certain bias towards L. There is, I love that character. He really reminds me of a half English, half Brazilian ex I met in cognitive therapy for our ASD. And I'm a Goth who likes Misa, so all the opinions on her are Light's not mine, though I'm aware a lot of people share them. I favor canon and enjoy research, but I'm human and my mother tongue is not English, if you pick up on any mistake, please point it out and I'll address it right away._

As he came round the sunlight hit him on the face, Light Yagami clung to the bed covers. Of usual he was an early riser, he was often up before the sun. But, for some reason, he didn't feel like getting up today. That is when he noticed he was not in a bed, but inside a futon. He sat up brusquely. Yes, this was not his bedroom, which was western style. He was inside a _washitsu,_ a traditional Japanese room with _tatami_ woven straw mats covering the length of the floor and translucent paper latticed _shōji_ doors all around the perimeter to let the light in. It was a very nice room, though.

There was also an interior sliding door, a _fusuma_, decorated with a mural in _Ukyo-e _style depicting a gorgeous buxom woman and a handsome man in richly decadent _yukatas. Yukatas_ are summer unlined kimonos and can be used as outerwear or as robes depending on when and where they are used. The erotic undertones of the _Ukyo-e _style were handled subtly on the mural, but were clearly present. The portraits, however, were anachronistic, for the man had horn-rimmed glasses and the woman had a bra peeking through the loosely closed robe, if it weren't for the lacy bra, her breasts would have been partially visible. There were also labels underneath the portraits in modern Japanese, which meant they were reinterpretations of the traditional style, just like this room which had a mix of modern and old and had a tad of western style thrown in the mix. For example: the Art Nouveau lamps used as light features. The roman blinds in a muted brick red color with a vine design replicating the one in the lamps –the color of the blinds also coordinated with the futon's duvet in shades of orange. - There was an en suite bathroom that he could see through a breeze blown beaded curtain depicting flying cranes, a symbol of immortality in gray, black and white also with orange-red highlights.

The beautiful woman on the _fusuma_ was called Yūko Ichihara and the man was called Clow Reed, her name was written with traditional _kanjis_ and his in _katakana,_ which probably meant he was a foreigner. The man and woman were drawn in such way that they seemed to be holding hands when the sliding door was closed as it presently was or striving to reach each other if the doors were open.

The _ranma_, a wooden transom window above the _fusuma_ door, was delicately carved in dark redwood and it was currently open to let air in. Through it Light could hear in the distance what sounded like a cascade, probably a water feature of an inside garden, and the wind rustling through _fuurin_ (wind chimes) and the leaves of the trees. Even further back he heard the noises of the city, including the familiar bustle of a busy train station. So he still was in Tokyo, but the house had a big garden. That kind of space in the city is not cheap, which meant the house belonged to a well to do family. _What is this place?_ He thought.

Light was inside an alcove niche a _tokonoma _raised above the floor level to set the_ shikifuton _on_. _He turned around to read the traditional hanging scroll, the_ kakemono_, he knew he would find there. It was a single word in impeccable calligraphy that for some reason made Light think a woman had written it: _Hitsuzen_, the inevitable, that which must happen. What an interesting choice of word for a bedroom. Fanciful and intriguing, a brain teaser. And not something you would see in a _ryokan,_ in which the word on the scroll would be a safer choice or, even, no word at all, but some nondescript flower arrangement. So the room was for private use.

A woman's bedroom, if he could judge by the light, playful color palette of the _tenjo_, the raised coffered ceiling depicting more _Ukyo-e _style scenes of nature landscapes, with views of Mount Fuji featuring prominently. He doubted they were Hokusai's originals, that would have made the cost prohibiting, but they were fairly good copies and tastefully chosen.

Beneath the hanging scroll, also on the _tokonoma_, he noticed a delicate flower arrangement with a base made of one single butterbur leaf neatly folded to nest its own sprout's seeds; some of which were cut in half, to display the purple heart of the bud. Butterbur sprouts are firmly related to spring in the Japanese unconscious mind. From that nest there seemed to be sprouting three orange and purple bird of paradise flowers, denizens of summer, framed by one single dark green trimmed sago palm leaf and five curly willow branches, which usually meant a voyage. The arrangement was set on a rectangular bronze metallic plate.

The message could be interpreted as: From the death of spring, summer sprouts. The winding road begins, it was a little floral haiku, skating impropriety for the deep orange flowers were close to being red flowers, which are to be avoided as they remind people of funerals, for red flowers contrast well with funereal white. On the edge but not over, the orange and purple flowers brightened the room, adding a bold dash of color, but the _nageire_ (free style) _ikebana _arrangement, whilst slightly unconventional, was exquisite, the fact the orange splashes were merely highlights and that there were no even- unlucky- numbers, plus the canonical combination of blooming flowers, seeds and branches, and the seasonal theme kept it within the bounds of propriety , taken as a whole, the flower arrangement was very refined, with just a touch of mischief that made it endearing.

Presiding over the _chigaidana,_ a built-in, staggered wall shelving beside the alcove, there was an iron cast incense burner in the shape of a small pig that was giving up a mix of aromas that were classic _Heinan_ period reminders of summer: wisteria, citronella, star anise and something earthier he couldn't very well identify, perhaps eaglewood. The small pig was a whimsical _kayariki, _an incense burner to keep mosquitoes away, which was also a very obvious reminder of summer; for the cheap earthenware _kayari-buta _(pig incense burner) were a summer steeple for most Japanese. The incense had just started to burn, as if someone had lighted it up in prevision of him waking up. Whoever did it, had probably also opened the transom window and the roman blinds to let the air and the sunlight in.

The scent was rich and invigorating, perfect for a summer morning like this seemed to be. It didn't have the pungency of commercial incense mixes, so the owner of the bedroom probably mixed it herself, yes, he had decided on the gender of the owner. Who else but a woman would think of such a delicate gesture, having him wake up on his own, by the light, the air and a scent that conjured up summer in every whiff? It was a pleasant contrast to what he was usually subjected to. Whenever he dared to sleep in, Amane, the living in girlfriend he never called by his given name in his mind -and who could be such a boor- woke him up by almost jumping on the bed and shrieking shrilly, like a child… a very annoying child.

So the lady was a kind soul and cultivated at least two of the three traditional arts of refinement: _kadō_ (flower arrangement) and _kōdō_ (incense appreciation). Only _chadō_ (the tea ceremony) was missing. What an interesting woman, judging solely from her bedroom. The bedroom also told Light that it was made for a sybarite for in it he could find things that appealed to all the five senses. The lady liked traditional, but she was not afraid to be bold and original. Not too young in order to have fully developed ideas of what she wanted and suited her best, but not too old to be weary of trying new things, and whimsical, going by the little cast iron pig, which could have been a false note in the context of the elegant decor, but wasn't, due to its evocative power.

On the right of the alcove there was built-in desk a _tsukeshoin _and a western style library_. _The desk was furbished with stationary and a redwood desk organizer well equipped with writing supplies, both western and Japanese. There was also a laptop that was to be expected in this day and age, but the library was also filled with well-used books on a staggering variety of topics and on several languages. Light had a good eyesight and was feeling too lazy to get up and go through the books, but a couple of titles were either personal favorites or in his own to read list and that piqued his curiosity.

Given Amane's psychotic jealousy it was odd to wake up in another's woman bedroom. Especially in a place that quite obviously belonged to someone with good taste, means to indulge it and the brains to fully enjoy it… He was not one for one night stands and he should have been able to remember how he had gotten there. Besides, whoever owned this bedroom was definitely a woman worth remembering.

He was laying over a comfortable king size _shikibuton_ mattress inside a lavish goose feather duvet, eight hundred threads Egyptian cotton, read the label. It was the kind of roomy futon not meant to be slept in by just one person. The duvet was in an orange red color with _Hanamaru Mon_ pattern (flowers encased inside a circle) another reference to eternity, for the circle has no end and no beginning. The flowers in the duvet replicated the color scheme in the _ikebana_ flower arrangement.

He adjusted his perception of the lady's means upwards, for someone who can afford to coordinate her Egyptian cotton duvet with her flower arrangements is someone with no economic concerns. Perhaps the paintings in the ceiling were original after all. And perhaps the lady was used to share her bed with someone else, which was not necessarily bad. Married women or women with certain experience were more casual about such engagements and that could be convenient. He was not one for one night stands, but being Kira and having to put up with Amane took its toll on his social life.

Light was only wearing his briefs underneath the covers, he could see his clothes had been cleaned and neatly folded on another piece of western furniture: a chair, high backed and in the same Art Nouveau style of the lamps. He didn't remember having undressed, so it followed that someone had done it for him. Of course, he didn't remember anything in regards of how he had come to be in that place. That was starting to really bother him.

The shadow of a person grew closer on one of the _shōji _doors. The person, who was carrying a platter, knelt gracefully in front of the door and knocked. _A servant or the lady of the house herself, _Light wondered. If he had spent the night with her, it would most likely be her serving him breakfast. If she sent a servant to feed him, it could mean he was in a room for a different reason. Out loud he said: "Come in, please."

The door slid open and the person entered back first muttering a soft good morning. She was thinly framed, more than he usually favored, with a tussled short black hair. If he could judge on the back alone, the girl was far younger than he had expected. But she was wearing an exquisite hand painted silk kimono with a _Korin Kiku_ (French marigold) pattern in shades of gray and black with a single spot of grapefruit red right in the middle of some of the flowers and an orange-gold sleeve trim and _obi_ that were so in line with the bedroom that Light figured out that she must be the lady herself.

She was fluffing up the _zabutons _(sitting cushions) and arranging the things that were on the platter over a _kotatsu_ (low table) still half turned, moving with flowing grace. That gave him time to examine her at his leisure. Only a sliver of her profile was visible from the futon. Her skin was perfection, so pale that the girl must use a really high UV factor cream or seldom go out. What he could see of her nose, slightly _retroussé_ and the swan curve of her neck was very pleasing. Even the shade of rimless glasses he could see added charm.

He noticed a bruising on the girl's nape and wondered if he had any part in it. Sometimes he could be quite rough when he was letting out steam. She looked delicate, but not frail, she kept herself in good shape. She had slim but well-toned arms and elegant hands with graceful fingers and perfectly manicured nails; without nail polish or make up she was a natural beauty.

He watched her prepare what was, judging from the enticing aromas wafting from the platter, a traditional homemade breakfast with quiet efficiency. The smell was not the only thing enticing. She was foaming the green _matcha _tea for a very intimate _asa-cha_ (morning) ceremony. In summer, due to the intense heat of the brassier, the cool early morning was the best for _chadō, _which the lady also apparently cultivated. Her wrist movements were… Light couldn't decide between the words suggestive and prurient, in the end it was a mere matter of degree, and the right word probably laid somewhere in between. But it was too early in the morning to go about figuring out semantic nuances.

He decided to fall back on the pillows and simply enjoy the show. Having to put up with Amane on an almost daily basis -inside his head he never called her by her given name: Misa that would have implied an intimacy he found deeply repugnant- it was a rare occurrence to be truly entranced by his bed partner. He couldn't remember what had happened, but just looking at her there was no way in hell he had passed on the opportunity to bed her.

He lingered on the girl's backside, perhaps more than was appropriate; still, given the circumstance that he had woke up basically naked in her bedroom and she was making him breakfast, he felt somewhat entitled. It was a very nice backside, round and firm. That brought about a reaction. In part it was a normal morning occurrence, but in part it was the lady arousing his interest. Would she be willing for an encore, one he could actually remember?

It would be a very nice way to start the day, if it weren't for the question: _Why can't I remember a thing of what happened last night?_ Which kept nagging at him. He was not much of a drinker, never before had he drank enough not to know what had happened. Still, that seemed like a plausible explanation. He went back to enjoying the room and the sight of the girl.

The pleasant feeling of contemplative enjoyment came to a crashing halt as soon as the boy -for a boy he was- turned around, smiling warmly at him and said: "I'm glad you are finally awake, Detective Yagami."

Light had to fight the impulse of covering up to his chin with the duvet. But he was suddenly painfully aware of his near nudity.

The boy seemed to notice, he arranged his rimless glasses pushing them up his pinch button nose and pointed out: "There is a _yukata _right by the futon."

There was, in wide stripes of different shades of blue. Light immediately put it on and said: "I seem to have woken up with a headache, do you have some aspirin?"

"There is some acetaminophen in the bathroom's cabinet. I mean Tylenol, sometimes I forget most people don't know medicines by their generic names. You lost consciousness quite suddenly, Detective, and you might very well have hit your head, I rather you didn't take anything that may increase the risk of bleeding like aspirin or ibuprofen. Acetaminophen is a safer choice. Please, help yourself to anything you need."

Light nodded exiting to the bathroom, there he downed the pills without water and took care of his other problem too. En suite bathrooms are not common in traditional households, but this was a very well-balanced mix of tradition and convenience. He profited from a bottle of mouthwash he found on the sink. He also washed his face and hands with a wonderfully silky peony soap. As he dried up with a fluffy white towel he thought with a hint of anger that his mistake was very understandable, I mean, what man uses that kind of soap, really? The whole place screamed of belonging to a woman… He breathed in a calming breath. Using the guy's comb felt wrong, so he used only his fingers when he messed his hair up into the carefully careless look he favored. And then he came out of the bathroom, feeling more prepared to handle whatever the situation may be.

The breakfast was set, the _miso _soup was already served in glazed green bowls: Celadon eggshell porcelain, expensive and tasteful. Could it be the guy's mother taste? He could see the _negi_ (leeks), _wakame_ algae and extra firm tofu in it. Most people ate it with scallion greens and soft tofu, the boy served it just like he liked it. Light was very particular about his food and, ever since leaving his parents household, where things had been prepared to cater for his father's and mother's tastes, he made it a point to eat things just like he liked them. He would have eaten what he was served, he hated rude people and wouldn't be one of them. Besides breakfast is the single most important meal of the day. But it was good that the _miso_ soup was made just right.

There was also rice porridge, his mother preferred steamed rice called _gohan _and that is what she served, but Light's grandmother had favored porridge and Light liked it best. Not so bright Amane had taken to prepare rice -in the odd occasions she had time to cook- just like Light's mother did, without bothering to find out if that was the way he liked it.

Over the _kotatsu_ (low table) there was a spread of the traditional side dishes: _nori_ (seasoned dried seaweed), bonito fish shavings, _natto _(fermented soybeans) _tsukemono_ (pickles) including his favorite _umeboshi_ (plump pickle). The main protein of the breakfast was also another one of his steeples: _aji yakizakana_ (grilled horse mackerel) and it was sided with kale _kobachi_ seasoned with _mirin_ and soy sauce_, _another dish he particularly liked.

But what really baffled him was that there was also his absolute favorite arugula and _daikon kaiware_ (radish sprouts) salad, which he typically dressed just with lemon juice and sea salt, since the peppery arugula added all the flavor the salad needed. Each salad plate had two lemon wedges and on the table, readily accessible to him, there was a small sea salt plate with the salt grounded just the way he preferred.

He didn't like it when people seasoned his salad, they usually did it wrong too much salt, too little, not enough lemon... He'd rather dress it himself. He also disliked the texture of sea salt that had gone through a grinder shaker, he liked to feel a bit of the grains, add a crunch to every bite, so he typically grounded it with a pestle and served it on a plate.

One favorite thing could have been a coincidence, this meal had been prepared especially for him by someone who knew his tastes more intimately than his own mother and his live in girlfriend did. Even though he was in a place where he had never been before with a boy he had never before laid eyes on. _How in hell is that possible?_ He thought as he fought a feeling of incipient vertigo.

The boy offered him a delicate earthenware _chawan _tea bowl with hot foamy green _matcha_ tea with the unselfconscious elegance of an Olympian cup bearer: "I usually serve it in tea cups, but you seem to prefer to drink directly from the _chawan_ and I want you to be at ease."

That had the very opposite effect. How did the guy know he preferred to drink in a bowl? Such a helpful little cup bearer. He stopped the thought right there, well he tried to, his mind was not easy to halt. _Where did the cup bearer thing come from? _

As usual an influx of facts popped up in his mind. The most famous Olympian cup boy was called Ganymede, a Trojan youngster who had been abducted by Zeus in the shape of an eagle to pour his wine, so the old lech could enjoy the boy's beauty forever more. Ganymede was also a moon circling the planet Jupiter, as most of the moons revolving around that gaseous giant were named after the lovers of the debauched father of the gods, there were names to spare. All of which still didn't explain why on earth was he thinking about that. He felt like running out of the bedroom. He forced himself to remain kneeling on the comfortable _zabuton, _seemingly unperturbed, though he felt shaken enough.

Watanuki smiled courteous and inviting: "Is the tea to your liking, Detective?"

Light once more had the impulse of standing up and running out the door. For goodness sake, the guy was only offering him some tea. Foamy _matcha _green tea...Frothy tea that the boy had whisked, making him think… Once more he was grasped by incipient vertigo.

The boy looked at him with wide-eye concern: "Are you OK, Detective? You look very pale, perhaps you should eat something. You weren't able to eat anything the last time."

The boy turned around to look for the chopsticks and Light could see the odd shaped bruising on his nape. He felt a cold chill running down his spine and thought quite forcefully: _I bet I had nothing to do with it_… _Even if I don't remember exactly what happened last night, I couldn't have. Could I? No, I would definitely remember that..._

The boy handed him a pair of chopsticks saying: "They are brand new, I know you are bit particular about what you put in your mouth."

That was spot on and also disturbingly ambiguous. How did he know so much about him? Even if he had investigated him, there is just so much you can find out about a person from a paper trace… Light had to bite his lips not to shout to the boy that he didn't know him and that the boy shouldn't have known anything of him either. Then he had thought that eating was a great idea, if only to have something else to focus on.

He picked the chopsticks and began eating: "This smells great, my mouth has been watering from the moment you entered the room..." He paused. That sounded wrong even to him. He cleared his throat and continued: "The _miso _soup is seasoned exactly the way I like it." Then he asked: "Why wasn't I able to eat the last time? It certainly cannot be because of the food, everything seems perfect."

The boy picked his own chopsticks and began eating too. He replied: "You fainted. That is why we brought you here to my room, so you could rest."

His room, Light had been holding onto one last straw of hope that the room was his sister's or his mother's, but no, it was his room. Damn the modern youth androgyny. Japan was going to hell, only Kira could prevent that.

On the outside, Light smiled courteous too: "You are too young to be a doctor, but that acetaminophen comment points toward you having some medical training."

Watanuki smiled, this guy's insistence on having the upper hand in every social interaction he entered was starting to really annoy him. Detective Yagami was not below using fallacious expedients like _argumentum ad hominen_, pointing at his youth every single time they met in order to leave plainly clear what was Watanuki's place related to his. But the despise he felt blooming was a luxury he couldn't afford. He needed to engage the psychopath in a meaningful way and he could only achieve that if he was willing to acknowledge, like Terence, that _homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto_: _I am human and nothing human_, not even this repulsive Kira guy, _can be foreign to me_. Rapport is a two way street and can only be established if we are willing to meet halfway.

So Detective Yagami wanted to make small talk while they ate the breakfast he had made especially for him, Watanuki would be happy to oblige: "I am a college drop-out, Detective. Personal circumstances keep me at home nowadays, but before that I was seriously considering a career in medicine and I've taken some first aid courses."

"Ah, did you also prepare the meal? Or did your servants do it?"

Watanuki had to stifle a chuckle, the only servant that had been in the shop for a very long time was he, while Yukō was still around. The thought brought a pang of pain to his heart that he was just not ready to handle yet. He merely nodded.

"Everything is delicious, you could be a chef too. This homemade _umeboshi _is the best I have ever tasted_. _And I eat it whenever I can, it is my favorite._"_

Watanuki smiled, this time for real, he picked a pickled plump with his chopsticks and turned it around: "It's all about having the right ingredients, Detective. We have a plump tree in the garden, it grows without chemicals and I make my own brine with my secret mix of spices. I only use vinegar and spring water that my friend Dōmeki, who lives in a nearby temple, brings me. It is this mix of ingredients that can produce, when handled with due care, this delectable taste." He ended by eating the pickle. Pardoning the lack of modesty, he thought that it was truly exquisite.

"Once your personal circumstances are sorted out, you may want to consider a career in the food industry."

Watanuki had, once upon a lifetime, but that ship had also sailed once he had become committed to the shop. After a century who knows what would have happened in the world? And he probably was not going to be willing to leave by then anyway. Nothing and no one he had once known would be alive by then. That gave him another heart pang he ignored.

"Sorting out my circumstances may take some time, Detective."

"As I said, you are young, you have time to spare."

"Time is a relative concept. I'm not as young as I look and I'm not getting any younger, so perhaps it is best to cut to the chase. You don't remember who I am, do you Detective?"

Light pondered if it would be worth it trying to lie. Then decided against it: "I'm afraid you are right, you have caught me at fault: I indeed don't remember who you are."

He nodded: "That is OK, Detective. I'm just trying to assess how you are today. I am Kimihiro Watanuki, my parents had an odd sense of humor and named me like that. It was a pain all the way through grade school and middle school. You are in my home. We brought you here after you fainted. It was your friend who undressed you, just in case you were wondering."

Watanuki meant April 1st and it also referred to the custom of removing winter kimonos to avoid children from suffering disease in spring, but it was better to keep that mental kimono on. Given that family name, the parents he spoke of in the past tense, would have in all likelihood been weirdos too. His given name Kimihiro meant prophet, so the weirdo hypothesis seemed to be confirmed. And now Light was left to wonder who the heck had undressed him.

Light asked: "My friend?"

"Yes, Detective, your friend Ryuzaki."

"Hah! That is not a soothing thought. Frankly I'd rather you had..." He stopped mid-sentence: "Where is Ryuzaki?"

"Probably playing with my desktop computer, I don't let him use my laptop anymore, not after he almost ruined it spilling his tea on it. That or he is stuffing his face with the baked goods in my pantry."

Light laughed: "That does sound like Ryuzaki. Is he a habitual guest in your house Watanuki-san"

"Detective, there is no need for formalities, not after spending the night in my private sanctuary. Please call me just Watanuki, I prefer it to Kimihiro. Ryuzaki has been a guest in my home for a while now."

Light decided that it was best to ignore the bedroom commentary: "Very well, I'll call you Watanuki, but I insist you call me Light, I'm only detective at work, not at social gatherings. I find people hide behind their profession because they don't have conversational skills or anything interesting in their lives besides it. That is not my case. So it was Ryuzaki who brought me here?"

Watanuki smiled. He had to admit the guy had a certain flair for inserting self-praise in his discourse with relative grace. Perhaps it was time to start deviating from small talk into the bigger fish they needed to fry: "In a way. You are here, Light, because he is and Ryuzaki is here because you are. It is _hitsuzen_."

Light chuckled: "The inevitable that is also the word that was written in your bedroom scroll. Did you write it?"

He denied: "No, it was my Mistress Yūko who wrote it. That is her portrait in my _fusuma_, hers and Master's Clow." He looked saddened: "They have gone ahead of us."

Light felt somewhat relieved that at least part of his deductions about the bedroom had been right. He also thought that was a very odd way of talking. _What exactly did he mean with his Mistress and Master? Were they his parents? And did he meant they were dead when he said they had gone ahead?_

He asked: "Are you an orphan?"

The boy chuckled: "That word always makes me think of Dickensian neglected children, which I was too old to be when my parents died. But I guess I am an orphan. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. That's why I taught myself to cook."

"You have taught yourself very well indeed. That was a scrumptious breakfast. The best I've had in ages. You are magnificent cook, Watanuki."

"Well, Light, thank you very much for the compliment."

Light got caught up in an intense feeling of _déjà vu. _He almost remembered something, something important, but then the feeling passed and he replied: "I mean it."

"You are too kind. I took the liberty of washing and ironing your clothes, they are all clean in case you would want to take a bath while I do the dishes. Afterwards, you are welcome to join us in the parlor. I'll make sure your friend Ryuzaki is ready to meet you. You can also stay here and rest for a while longer, if you are not feeling alright."

"Not feeling alright?"

"You said you had a headache."

"Yes, I did. But it is all better now. A bath sounds great too. I'll take you up on that offer."

The boy picked up the leftovers and the plates with his quiet efficiency and his disturbingly ambiguous back. He said: "Then I'll leave you to it, Detective. Come join us when you are ready."

Light looked out of the room to see where the guy was going. He then got back into the bedroom, got dressed without taking a bath, holstered his gun after verifying it was in working order, checked his cellphone, which, just as he had suspected it would be, had no signal. And followed Watanuki Kimihiro with a sense of foreboding.

Watanuki had almost dropped the breakfast platter when Lawliet grabbed him in the hallway and made him enter his room. Light who had been following him from a distance rushed towards them and spied them through a small crack in the _fusuma_.

"What is wrong with you? Can't you call me like a normal person would? Do you always have to grab me like that?"

"It's simpler."

"No it's not, it is weird and incredibly rude."

L shrugged: "I don't mind weird or rude."

"And that is the understatement of the century. I take it you grabbed me for some purpose other than indulging your weirdness and rudeness. What that may be?"

"I was watching you and Light."

Watanuki cocked an eyebrow: "You were spying on us? You must be a ninja, I couldn't feel one trace of your presence and it is not easy to conceal yourself in broad daylight near a room which has _shōji_ doors on three sides."

"I've installed cameras in your bedroom."

"What?! How?! When?! And more importantly: Why?!"

"I installed the cameras the moment I arrived here. I always have some with me, they are really useful. I installed the surveillance software in your laptop as soon as you lent it to me. That way I could watch you from the comfort of my own room. It was a pain to have to redo the process with the desktop. But that is not the point, mate."

"Not the point the pervert says… And what the heck could be your point after revealing to me so casually that you go about watching me in my bedroom behind my back, L-senpai?"

Light had to stifle a chuckle. Watanuki's mocking use of the honorific was an outright insult that slid right off Ryuzaki's back. Ryuzaki didn't change, he was a rude bastard with a skin thick like a rhino pelt. And he was now speaking with a rather thick English accent, what mind game was he playing?

"I think we may have an opening. Light was giving you the eye."

"What do you mean the eye?"

L rose a suggestive eyebrow.

"Not you too. Is it not sufficient that all the guy seems to be able to think of is sex? Now I have to put up with your lewdness too."

L shrugged: "Is not like any of us has a choice. And this may be an opportunity to move things forward. Come on, Watanuki, take one for the team. He is not that bad looking and Misa Misa says that what he lacks in skill he makes up in enthusiasm."

It was as if Watanuki had been two different persons. One was looking at L mystified, the other threw him a punch that would have landed square on L's face if he hadn't evaded it with a sideways drop. In fact he went so low that his hand touched the floor before springing right up and going back to a rocking _ginga_ position.

L pointed out: "That was a _Esquiva Lateral_. That is Portuguese for a lateral dodge."

Watanuki replied flustered: "I've told you a thousand times before that I'm not interested in learning capoeira from you. And I also have no interest in gaining insight into Detective Yagami's sex life, neither theoretical nor practical."

Spying through a crack in the sliding door Light felt mortified to find out that the idiot Amane had discussed them with Ryuzaki. Of course a woman who had been passed around by managers and promoters like a football would think anyone who didn't enjoyed her morbid cravings was unskilled. He was going to give the stupid Goth a piece of his mind and a lesson on keeping her mouth shut as soon as he could. But he also realized that the words Watanuki spoke meant he was very familiar with Ryuzaki. Those two were up to something alright.

"You should let me teach you some self-defense techniques. No knowledge is ever wasted. And you punch like a girl. Speaking of which, the thought must have crossed your mind, when you decided to play the geisha and entice Light-kun with the three classical arts of refinement. Though that thing you did with the whisk was not refined at all, it was pretty graphic, mate." He ended with a crude wrist motion that left nothing to the imagination.

Watanuki gasped and kicked him low, he would have hit L somewhere soft if the guy hadn't dodged it by falling backwards to rest on his hand and feet, moving quickly away from harm's way by walking like a crab.

L sprinted back up and said: "That's called _Queda de Quatro. _It can be roughly translated as on all fours, which brings us back to my initial point…"

"I don't care, you rude oaf! In what sick world does being a welcoming host can be constructed as an indecent proposal? Is that how your perverted mind works: oh he is being nice to me, he must be putting out? _Hentaime!"_

With his ear to the _fusuma_, Light Yagami blushed, it was pretty much what he had thought too. _But I'm nothing like L, mine was an honest mistake: that room is a woman's room. I woke up in there naked and everything in it was a blatant effort at pleasing me. Not to mention the breakfast. That was something a doting wife would do for her husband; not something a normal guy would do for another guy that he has just met. And that freak looks just like a girl from behind!_

L said: "What about the breakfast? That is something a doting wife would do for her husband." Then he tilted his head pensively.

Watanuki looked at him through narrowed eyes: "What's wrong with you? Besides the obvious."

L shuddered: "I got a weird feeling all of the sudden. It's probably nothing. You put so much effort on softening the guy and you managed to do the exact opposite. But that can be a good thing, if you reach out and… erm… grab at the opportunity."

"Buddha grant me patience! Whenever I think this guy cannot possibly get more crude and insulting, he proves me wrong. I'm not going to grab at anything. And I just wanted to ease the Detective Yagami's mind in order for him to be receptive and listen us. Besides, the breakfast was nothing especial, I used to do that for Yukō and Dōmeki all the time. I even did it for you several times, if you remember."

"You never made me an especial breakfast."

"Breakfast is not your favorite meal, I made you high tea plenty of times, Lawliet."

"I do remember, darling. Best high tea ever, your watercress-egg salad sandwiches can give Harrods' a run for his money. Your lemon and mince meat pies were just right. Your bacon-cheese quiche almost made me weep and I'm the kind of guy who'd take sweets over savory any day. Oh, but your sweets, your sweets were what made me come round: Your crystallized ginger and candied orange peel scones were heavenly and your buttery _madeleines_ with royal lemon zest were clouds of goodness. You could get filthy rich if you bottle your lemon curd and sell it. And I still have dreams about that five layered trifle of yours: you used actual _Malvasia Roxa_ Madeira to soak the sponge, though, for the life of me I still cannot figure out how you managed to get hold of a bottle of it in this place, and you used a homemade custard with natural vanilla beans, handpicked the berries and cherries, made your own marmalade and whipped the cream yourself. Save for Watari, no one had ever brewed my Assan black tea just right. I honestly thought I had died and gone to heaven, until you explained me otherwise. But that was ages ago. You never want to play with me anymore."

"Is that what this is? You feel neglected so you are acting out? Not even you can be this childish! Surely you must understand that we need to focus on convincing Light Yagami, if we are ever going to escape this mouse trap of _dukkha _you two have gotten all three of us in!"

L asked: "Oh, so you are blameless? On that cheery note: Where is our third blind mouse now?"

Watanuki sighed: "He is taking a bath. Now, if you excuse me, I have to do the dishes and get ready for round umpteen. I'm really hopeful about this one. We made actual progress in there."

He puckered up: "Yeah, you did, but you didn't follow through." Watanuki turned to leave. "Wait, I'm really bored, I haven't gotten to do anything last couple of times. Play a game with me."

Watanuki laughed derisively: "Not even if hell freezes over twice! Playing your games was torture pure and simple, I only did it so I could pick your brains. Now that your brains are duly picked, I don't have to do it anymore, so I won't."

"Liar, you enjoyed it just as much as I did."

"No I didn't, especially not that time when I threw off my back."

L chuckled: "Don't whine, I got you back on your feet in a jiffy, didn't I?"

Watanuki scoffed: "That is one way to look at it, the other way to look at it is that you gave me the shiatsu massage from hell and that, even though I was able to walk again, I walked funny for the next couple of weeks. Which is why I won't play with you anymore."

It was starting to sound like a lover's spat, a very disturbing lover's spat. Light recoiled: _What the heck are those two talking about? Is game some sort of code word?_

"It takes one to know one, I'm an adrenaline junky too, and you cannot fake your pupils dilating and the pulse beating madly in your neck. You liked it just as much as I did."

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer." Said Watanuki as he picked up the platter and opened the door, forcing Light to retreat in a rush to the room in front of L's.

L stopped him before he finished going out: "What if I make this interesting?"

"Interesting how?"

"If you play with me, then I promise to behave: Not only will I not hinder your efforts in regards to Light Yagami, but I will put my considerable resources at your service and follow your orders to a T."

"How do I know you are not trying to fool me or small-print me?"

"Risk is part of the fun, mate."

"Ooh, that is so very tempting… But I should say no, you are a devil and one shouldn't strike bargains with devils."

"Let us up the ante: Three times, for the next three times I will be your humble helper, as long as you play me for one whole game, regardless of the outcome of it. If you are so confident in your methods, it shouldn't take you more than that to succeed, Kimihiro Watanuki."

Watanuki moaned and bit his lips: "Three whole times with no interference from you? You are killing me here! OK, what game would you want us to play?"

"Do you have to ask? There is only one game we can play in which we are evenly matched… I've never known anyone so bendy. You are like a human pretzel."

"Sweet Buddha! Not that!"

"Is that or no deal, Watanuki."

"Damn! I know that you are trying to trick me but I can't pass on the opportunity. Three whole times should be enough to push both of you right into Nirvana. I'll have Marudashi and Morodashi bring us the box."

Light frowned: _Nirvana? __Human pretzel?_ _The box? And what sort of people are called streaking and flashing? What are those two up to?_

"No need to, I have the box right here in my bedroom."

"I can't believe you would keep it there after I explained you the dangers!"

"Calm down, you also said we are locked in and the mat won't work fully, since we cannot connect to other dimensions until we are ready to move on, so the thing is relatively safe."

"Still, I wouldn't want the children to open something like that by accident."

Light cocked an eyebrow:_ Other dimensions? The children? What on hell's name is going on?_

L pointed out with his own raised eyebrow: "You were having them bring us the box."

"Yes but I was going to instruct them not to look inside it. Unlike you they are very obedient." Watanuki cried out: "Maru, Moro, come here please!"

A couple of girls in primp western dresses rushed in, one had short straight pink hair with two buns, and the other had long curly blue hair in pigtails. They were holding hands and skipping in one foot, one was skipping on her left leg, the other on the right one.

"My dears, Lawliet and I are going to be playing a game in the parlor, I want you to stay away from it until we are done."

Maru asked point blank, looking at L with a big frown: "Are you going to hurt Watanuki again?"

Moro sniffled on the verge of tears and held him by the waist: "No, no, Watanuki, don't play with the evil man!"

"There, there, everything is going to be alright. Why don't you go play in the garden? And take Mokona with you, we'll be done here in a minute."

The girls left and L signaled the sliding door that led to the room where Light was hiding: "Shall we?"

Watanuki sighed: "I really shouldn't, but let's get this over with."

The parlor was a big room, twice the normal size and had next to no furniture, but it had a built-in closet and that is where Light squeezed himself into in order to avoid a direct confrontation. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was terribly wrong. He needed more information before deciding how to proceed. The door didn't close fully but that was OK because that way he could spy through the crack in it.

L said: "Same rules as usual, my turn you spin, your turn, I spin. We keep playing until, someone falls, knees or elbows touch the mat, no other move is possible or the other player forfeits. A pause can be granted, if requested. We flip a coin for the first turn. You flip, I call it."

Light couldn't see from that angle but he assumed Watanuki had flipped the coin while L yelled: "Tails!"

Watanuki whined: "I don't know how you do it, you always win the coin flip, no matter who flips it. It's unreal."

L chuckled: "I'm one jammy devil. Lady Luck just can't get 'nough of me."

Watanuki scoffed: "Just spin."

L laughed louder: "You got to get on all fours, Watanuki."

"I don't believe it, I don't. What are the odds?"

"The answer to that is 0.05 or 5 percent. Since this version has the standard pie spinner with sixteen divisions, plus four wild cards, all of the same size, not taking into account the line width, assuming perfect randomness, the simplest probability calculation yields: one in twenty. We could make it fancier by actually measuring the pie divisors, in the end its just fractions. You usually learn that at comprehensive. Seems I should teach you some basic maths too. Be happy to, later; for now, get on all fours, darling."

"I know probability, what I don't know is how you manage to spin just what that black heart of yours wants. Now it is my turn. No! Buddha, what have I done to offend you?"

"Magical thinking is the last resort of the weak willed and the weak minded. Now, open your legs wide, I'm coming through."

Light tried to get a better look of what was going on and the door creaked.

Watanuki asked: "What was that?"

L shrugged: "It's just the wind. I told you to open wide."

"I am opening my legs as far wide as humanly possible."

"No you aren't"

"I think I know my own body's capabilities." L approached him from the back and opened his legs wider. Watanuki yelped: "Damn it, don't touch me! That hurt."

"You are welcome, now your legs are really wide open. And I can get in comfortably. My turn to spin and looksy there, want to forfeit, darling? Save yourself the pain."

"On the second turn? Like hell I will. I just have to arch my back just right and I'll be able to pass my leg underneath yours like this to support my weight and then I can pass my arm besides yours like this and be able to reach it just fine. Ha! My turn to spin."

L whistled: "Just look at that, he is a human pretzel."

"And you are not such a lucky devil, want to forfeit, dear? Spare yourself the pain."

"Silence, I need to give this one some thought."

"Come on! There is no way in hell that you can manage to do that. Just quit."

"Sorry, luv. They didn't program the quit when they were tweaking me. All we Wammy's are missing that button. It's going to be hard but yes, I think I can pull it up."

"Whatever you do be quick about it, I'm getting cramps in this position. How?! Are you made out of rubber?"

"It's mind over matter. My mind, over your matter, darling. My turn to spin. Now you are done for, not even a human eel like you can manage to squeeze through that narrow space. I hate irrational behavior so much that, even if it is against my best interest, I must point it out to you: You are aware that you win this just by playing, aren't you? The rational course of action would have been to forfeit on the first move; thus effectively ending the game and winning the bet. See the forest not the tree. Focus on the bigger picture, instead of trying to secure the immediate win all by yourself, you know? Though battles are won in the long run. And you don't have to win them alone. Maybe Light-kun and I are not the only ones who need to learn a lesson here, Watanuki."

"Rational is not necessarily honorable. I Kimihiro Watanuki, play to win or don't play at all. You of all people should understand that. And I'll win both the game and the bet honorably. Now shut up and let me concentrate. I know I can manage it, if I just can twist the right way. I will be able to lift my foot and shove it with one decisive trust all the way through that little hole…"

"Wait a minute mate, that is a really tight fit and you are going to pass really close to the family jewels there."

"I thought you were the product of a eugenics program and didn't care for the normal way of reproduction. Why would you care for the family jewels?"

"I can still feel the pain, mate. Why don't you just forfeit?"

"I've told you that is beneath me. Now, don't move, Lawliet. I don't want to hurt you."

Being a cop Light Yagami was aware of a lot of awful things that happened in the world, including a practice with fists he would rather not think too hard on, but a foot? These people were sick. Was Kira reduced to hiding inside a closet while Lawliet got badly hurt during some insanely disgusting sex session? And then it hit him. He had stood aside while L was killed once before. What the hell was going on?

Light felt panic stricken. All the weirdness, the talk about dimensions, whatever was going on out there. The talk about making rapport and coercing people with kindness, food and sex. They were trying to cozen him so they could pick his brains. It sounded a bit like a sex cult… A supernatural sex cult that had managed to bring a dead man back to gain insight on him. That could explain how Watanuki knew how to make him almost… Almost… The fight or flight response kicked in and one single coherent thought took shape in his brain: _I have to get the hell out of here, now._

He took out his gun and made a run for it, not daring to look at what those two were actually doing, he dashed to the door and went down the hallway.

Watanuki watched befuddled as Light popped out of the closet and ran towards the _fusuma_. He moaned and spat at L: "What are you waiting for? Get up and run after him!"

L denied: "He is a goner, mate. The is no point in getting hurt by trying to get up. Better be careful about it and stretch properly. It's not like he can get anywhere but right back here."

"_Chikushou!" _against L's advise he got up: "Oh, I was sure he had it this time. Screw this, I'm going after him." He turned towards L and said: "Wait for me here," before sprinting after Light shouting: "Detective, wait, please! It is not what you think. We were just playing a game of interdimensional twister. Please come back!"

"Get away from me you freak!" Light cried out as he opened a door but as he tried to get out it was as if he hit a wall made out of stone. The world broke in shards of light and color like the insides of a kaleidoscope. His head started to spin and Light blacked out.

L joined Watanuki at the door and said: "Told you he was a goner."

"Well at least something good came out of it. You are to follow my directions for the next three times."

"No I'm not, mate. The bet was if you played me for one whole game, which you haven't. You told me to wait for you, thus pausing the game, when you got up to pursue Light-kun. So the game is not over yet. We can pick it up later." He smiled meanly: "When I feel like it… And yes, this is me small-printing you. Should have listened to me when I told you to forfeit the game. Now, I'm going to fix myself a cuppa, see what you are trying to hide in your pantry of goodness to replenish my sugar levels. And then I'm going to take a long nap. You should do the same. The way he hit that barrier, Light-kun is going to be out cold for a while. And you don't look that good. You really should have stretched. If you feel you need one of my shiatsu massages from hell, come and beg me. I might be persuaded, as long as you promise to make that trifle again."

Watanuki wanted to yell at Lawliet, but what would be the good of that? He also didn't feel like trying to drag Light back in, he was going to leave him right by the door, as L said, he couldn't go anywhere but right back in. Perhaps he did need to focus on the bigger picture. Then he called out to Maru and Moro that the game was over and could they please come help him go back to his bedroom. There he undressed, downed some ibuprofen and crawled inside the futon without bothering to change the covers, even thought they reeked of that man. His back was killing him, but he wouldn't give that other guy the satisfaction.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Hitsuzen

"_In the shape of things to come, too much poison come undone. 'Cause there's nothing else to do: Every me and every you. Every me and every you... Every me…" From Placebo's song Every Me and Every You (Album: Without You I'm Nothing 1999)._

_AN: This one turned a bit darker than I had intended. It is also a belated birthday present for L and for a friend with the coolest birthday ever. I wouldn't really characterize it as humorous, perhaps black humor or deadpan, pun intended. The downside is that I had to change the T rating to M. On that note… Warning: there are depictions of torture. Unusual, mind you, since the torture instrument used is a feather and the absence of pain. It is justified as the episode serves to move the plot forward, but I admit it is all graphic enough to warrant the change of rating. Oh, and if you haven't read Tsubasa Chronicles, there might be spoilers here for you. Other than that, if you came willing to watch Light get what he deserves for killing L, welcome and enjoy._

Light Yagami stared down at L with righteous indignation painted on his handsome face before he fainted one more time on the tiled entrance that led to the shop's parlor. Their reluctant host nagged at L in the loud shrilly voice which indicated he was truly upset. L Lawlite felt a strong sense of _dejá vu, _which was more than justified because he had indeed seen this very scene over and over with only slight variations many times since he had first arrived at Watanuki's shop.

He had seen it so many times that he had lost count... No, not really, losing count would have been a blessing, given his present circumstance, but he couldn't. His mind was wired to keep count and he always did. In fact L Lawlite had classified the ending of the exchange between Light-kun, Watanuki-kun and himself in six distinct scenarios, this particular one was number four and out of the 12,854 times the three of them had gone through the time loop, things had ended in a number four (with Light trying to run away and hitting the barrier) 1,929 times. It was a popular one, third place right behind a number 2 (Light killing him) with 4,536 and number 5 (him killing Light) with 4,535 times. The other three scenarios were: L trying to run away and crashing into the barrier (number 1) 431 times. Watanuki losing his patience and magically resetting the cycle (number 3) with 105 times. And either L or Light starting a fight that ended in mutual annihilation (number 6) which had happened 1,318 times so far.

Yes, not surprisingly, the only one who hadn't soiled his hands with blood so far was the lanky young man who at times behaved like a monk and others behaved like a nagging old lady. Like he was doing at that moment, chiding L for the umpteen time for no following his orders. Kimihiro Watanuki kept chastising him while he dragged the unconscious self-fashioned Lord Kira to the loveseat in the living room and dropped him on it with the gentleness one could expect from a toddler handling a teddy bear. L had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of the proud man being treated like a parcel by the frustrated wizard.

A good part of the nagging was due to L refusing to help him deal with the unconscious Light Yagami. But after just being called a perverted freak by Light for the umpteen time, L had no intention to lift a finger to help the bastard. Besides, he was only listening to the reprimand with one fifth of his attention. The rest was pondering something far more important with the almost maniacal focus ASD people can have. As Watanuki nagged, he was analyzing that last look on Light's face before he fainted.

L's understanding of emotion passed through his analytical brain, feelings had to register at the cortex level to be truly understood. That look was bugging him somehow. When he finally realized what the look was about he was swept by his own emotions. There was a common misconception that he lacked them; but, on the contrary, he had an abundance of them that could make neuro-typical people shirk away in fear. And they usually did, when he lost the careful control over them he had painstakingly learned to exercise and people were unlucky enough to be around to witness it. He didn't have to analyze it too much to discover how that look made him feel: he was furious with a devastating all-consuming ire, akin to a category five super typhoon in the Saffir-Simpson scale.

L left Watanuki talking to the air, the boy didn't really need him there to vent his frustration. Kimihiro was doing a soliloquy, so he could do it just as well without L there. And it was dangerous for both of them if he stayed. When he was in that frame of mind, it was better to be alone. Kimihiro Watanuki was a pain in the arse most of the time, but he was a good boy and L didn't want the 1985 incident to repeat itself. Granted, he had been six at the time and the guy whose skull he had cracked was a bit of a bully, but hurting someone who was basically an innocent was something he'd always regretted.

He didn't go back to his room for he knew he may be followed there. He hid in one of the many storage rooms that were in the garden. The locks on the doors were ludicrous, it was as if they weren't even trying. And perhaps they weren't, Watanuki had a tendency to let things fall in their place. In any case the locks were so basic that L could have opened them with a toothpick. He chose one storage that, judging by the dust layer, seemed to have been used some time in the last year. It was dusty but there were no cobwebs nor mice droppings, so whatever Watanuki kept there, living things did not crave it. In fact, by the looks of it, living things avoided it. L sat down on the dusty floor, back leaning on a wooden organizer that had a myriad of boxes and odd bric-à-brac in all sizes and colors imaginable on its shelves. He closed his eyes and retreated to the vast, well organized recesses of his mind where he could work out the anger on his own.

Bugger off! The wanker felt indignant? And he thought he felt that way rightfully… What a load of tosh! L felt hurt too and he wasn't acting out. Well, at least not too much. Most of his tantrums were just to deal with the boredom. But that bleeding Light Yagami was not getting things just the way he wanted and all of the sudden the poor dear felt betrayed by the universe? As if the bloody universe owed something to the jammy twat! Fancy that!? L could because just as his feet were oversensitive to the touch of fabric and leather, his mind was oversensitive to empathy. Yes, empathy disorders can go both ways and in his case he could walk in another person's shoes to the point of losing himself in those moccasins.

It had happened before, the worst had been one of the first. He had been chasing after a conman and blackmailer. He had gotten so deep into the woman's psyche that he had been able to take over her con after they had apprehended her. In fact he'd taken over her whole persona. He went as far as to curling and dying his hair brown, putting make up and prosthetics. He changed his height with shoes, used a padded push up bra and went around in a dress. He had even managed to fool the woman's lover, not in bed, of course. But he had managed to keep the guy at bay with warnings of screwing up a really big score, if they were found together. Still that was the first time he'd snogged someone. He was fourteen at the time and though he had been incredibly precocious in most every other respect, he fell well within average in first kisses. Of course social interaction being a hurdle for him… It was impressive, and a bit sick. And then, he was not much more screwed up than a bunch of child actors who had that very same experience.

L Lawlite had completed the con job and collected enough evidence to bring down the woman's whole network. That is just how good he could be when getting inside someone else's skin, it was a moment of triumph. That was also the moment in which things had gone south. A devilish whim took over and he had refused to return the money he'd nicked from a rich nob, he'd also refused to turn in the database the woman had used for her blackmail. And he had ran away with the boyfriend, leaving the police forces of three countries unsure of what to do. Up until the moment he had up and left they had thought him their ally. Besides he had only been fourteen at the time. The legal issue was blurred by his age. He was not old enough to go undercover to begin with, nor old enough to be the prime suspect. The whole thing was treated as an abduction.

It had taken all of Watari's many resources, including the love and respect L had for the man, to be able to track him down and bring him back to himself. It had also taken all of Wammy's Group considerable influence to make everyone let the young detective's indiscretion slide, once the money was returned to its rightful owner, the database with dirty secrets of important people destroyed and the crook safely in the hands of justice, having added statutory rape to his long tally of misdemeanors; L had returned to business as usual, he was too valuable an asset to toss away just for a minor tantrum like that.

Though normal guardians may not have considered it minor. L and the crook had managed to evade their pursuers for six months. Frankly he had gotten bored around the second month, but after being yelled at by the infuriated CIA wanker in charge of the multinational task force, when he had only called to say he was sorry and could they please come pick him up… L had wanted to see the cops suffer a humiliating defeat. And yes the guy had also been L's first in that regards. And yes, the man was well aware the boy was not the woman he had been impersonating but by that point he didn't seem to care. L was convinced we are all bisexual, we just have not all found it out.

Truth be told, L hadn't fully calculated the consequences of his actions until after he was already committed and he kind of felt bad about it. To be fair, Watari as his guardian and on L's behest, hadn't pursued a criminal conviction for what had transpired between him and the crook. The guy was seven years older than him chronologically and about a thousand years younger mentally. A fair appraisal was that L had screwed with the bloke's head first and he'd done it mostly out of curiosity of how far he could take it. As the Americans say, he went right to home run in one single sprint. Ups.

Wrapping the man around his little finger had been so easy that it wasn't even fun. But, the man had treated him with gentleness and L didn't want him to go to jail labeled as a child molester, and gay to boot. We all know what usually happens in that scenario. That was a guilt he didn't need on his tab. As punishment L had been put on a tighter leash and added a couple of weekly hours to his therapy to treat what his therapist had called his Stockholm syndrome. Hah! The shrink had completely missed the point, or else he might have just been trying to keep up appearances… That was business as usual too. L had been around shrinks all his life and save for Dr. H none had really gotten what he was about, few had been really helpful and fewer still had really cared about him.

He felt a pang of regret thinking of H, if anyone had mourned his demise that was big sis… Wonder how she was doing? Had she married that French chef? Who had walked her down the aisle since Watari and he were gone? Maybe Roger and she had finally made up over their dead bodies. Was she happy? L hoped she was. But there was no point on dwelling on it, he growled inwardly and let it go, for the time being. A whole lot of time if Watanuki was right about them being there until they could purge their guilt over the Kira affair. Was that even possible?

He didn't very well know why the powers that be felt he was responsible for that travesty. But for the sake of argument let us say he was responsible. Let us say that if he had chocked the bastard in his sleep and thrown his body to the bottom of the ocean when he had the chance, less people would have been killed, including himself. He paused and laughed at the thought of Light Yagami sleeping with the fishes.

Let us say he shared half of the Kira killings with Light-kun. The Death Note had 38 lines, guessing you could cram 2 to 3 names per line, assuming he was only killing by heart attack -which was not true but simplified the calculations,- extrapolating from the psycho's killing schedule when he was in high school, accounting for the months he had been imprisoned and for the years in which he had killed unchecked until Mello and Near got him, adding up Misa, Takada, Mikami and Higuchi to the tab, since they were sharing responsibility around and the other Death Note users weren't there with them, a conservative estimate was 180 to 228 people per week, with 52 weeks per year over seven years you could go from 65,520 to 82,992 souls. Which was bad but still didn't come close to the 70 million people estimated to have lost their lives in WWII during six years including the nuclear grand finale in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Wonder who was paying the karma for that one and with what sort of dukkha? Were the judgments of obscure powers better than human judgment? Looking at how Shinigamis behaved, there was room for doubt.

Going back to his first run in with the feeble representatives of justice, L had basically got off with a slap on the wrist. From that humbling moment onwards, L had avoided people and had only looked at them from a cautious distance. Even from afar he was able to guess their motives and predict their conduct. That was enough for his work. Work was his passion, his obsession, all he'd ever had and all he'd ever wanted… save that one time in which he had foolishly thought he might have found an equal. It was so rare to let someone get close… out of character, really… But he was still dealing with the aftershock of what had happened with Misora when he saw her during the civil damages lawsuit that distant relatives of Backyard Bottomslash had filled against BB. That woman had the odd effect of making him want to act on his best behavior. She made him want to act like a decent human being. Ah, no good deed ever goes unpunished.

He moved brusquely and made the wooden organizer rattle. Something fell and would have landed on his head if it weren't for his reflexes, he picked it up on his palm and looked at it peevishly: a ball of worsted yarn, of all things. It had a parchment rolled inside and L's curiosity made him take it out. At first glance he could guess it was some kind of abugida alphabet, in which consonants are the primary element of a sequence and vowels are added as diacritics. Upon closer inspection he could even make out a couple of words that shared roots with Sanskrit. That was a language he'd learned after pursuing a terrorist cult that used it to share information among its members. But this seemed old, older than anything he had ever seen before. The couple of words he could indeed understand were positively intriguing: bind, power and magi. What was Watanuki always saying? There is no coincidence, only destiny: Hitsuzen.

Hmm… Destiny… Of usual he despised that kind of faulty logic. Ah magical thinking! What a delightful way of fooling oneself, and a what a perfect way to convince oneself that one's wants, even the darkest are the product of powerful beings tricking us into doing wrong. If L had a pound for every bastard that wanted to pin their murder to the voices inside their head and one additional pound for every idiot who called those voices demons, he'd be far richer than he was. However, even when there were actual supernatural forces involved, say, for example: in the case of the Death Note; L was convinced that there is always free will and responsibility. Still the magic yarn was too big of a tease to let it pass. If his suspicions were right, he could buy some alone time with Light-kun with that yarn. And if one were to believe the owner of this crazy shop, L already had a bucketful of bad Karma to expiate… So what was the harm, really? He pocketed the yarn, along with the scroll and decided to make use of Kimihiro Watanuki's extensive library to try to decipher it. Cryptography being one of his favorite pet peeves.

He had no illusions in respect to why he was taking the yarn from the storage rooms, something that Watanuki had strongly warned him against. L knew his mind was going off track into a very dark place and that perhaps he should have tried to stop it… Perhaps...

Watari had made him conscious that his intelligence created an imbalance in most of his dealings with other people, something which meant he bore a greater responsibility and should try his best not to hurt others and be of service to the world. And of usual he did try to do just that. Even though it could be argued that his differences also put him in disadvantage in other regards, he had never expected the world to adapt to him, he knew the majority ruled by landslide and they were a thousand years early to the point in which humanity would go through the pains of really accommodating the needs of a minority, save in the most perfunctory of ways. He was the one forced to walk the extra mile.

L took it all in the best humor he could. If he were asked to choose a Jungian archetype, he would definitely pick the trickster. He knew he could be rough in the games he played with the world, but he usually tried to play nicely. And yet, for once he felt the need to be boorish and destructive, the way a child can be when he destroys the ant farm he has been playing happily with just moments ago. He had gotten the short stick in so many ways that it only seemed fair to take that stick and poke someone in the eye with it once in a while. It was incredibly petty, but that pettiness actually worked to make him feel better. He must be an awful person. But then again that was probably why he had landed in hell.

He wanted to let loose his own hurt upon the world and let the world suffer at least a fraction of what he did. And why should he exercise restraint? He was in a supernatural prison that punished wrong doers forever more unless they expiated their faults, so what better place to let his demons out than that accursed shop in which all would be magically erased right afterwards? What would be the harm in blowing up some steam in hell?

He thought that he could let anger rage and when the world laid burnt to the ground, things would just go back to square one. However he miscalculated the extent of his feelings and the nature of the magic that bounded all of them together. What came forth was not the quick rage that burns out like a fire running out of oxygen. No, what came forth was the cold anger that can last forever and that never really forgets or forgives. His rage was a blizzard and in that gelid, merciless storm, L lost himself once more. Pity Watari was not there to pull him back to his senses this time around.

* * *

Light Yagami woke up suspended over a bed by a series of lifts and slings. His head was immobilized by some sort of device. And he had an IV drip in his arm. His first coherent thought was that he had been in an accident and was in a hospital, but on closer inspection he realized that he wasn't hovering over a clinical bed and that the series of pulleys and hoists effectively holding him in place were not medical devices but that they seemed… well… improvised.

He tried to move and a sharp intense pain made him stop: "What the hell?"

The chuckle came from his left side, somewhere behind him. In an angle from where he couldn't see who was speaking.

"Precisely Light-kun. Welcome to Hell. Abandon all hope and all that jazz… I would discourage you to move right now. After your little stunt last time, I had no choice but to place you in this rather compromising position. If you move too brusquely, you'll risk spinal cord injury in the cervical section, C1-C8." He put a long spindly finger over Light's neck and made him shiver.

Another pang of pain made him stop and be still.

L chuckled: "Careful, mate, the wrong move could very well render you quadriplegic, that is with paralysis of all four limbs and maybe even unable to breathe unsupported. We really don't want that to happen. I've done the best I can with the limited materials at my disposal, but we won't be able to treat any complex injury. If you cannot breathe unsupported you will die a rather painful, desperate death. So, unless you want to experience having your lungs collapsing and us having to wait for a couple of hours to continue the fun, you should be still, my dear."

Light growled: "What's with the accent? Whatever you think you are doing here L, holding me against my will is illegal and you got it wrong I'm not Kira. My father..."

"Illegal my arse!" He said and then changed his accent to a vaudeville American: "We ain't in Kansas no more, Dorothy. Legal don't longer matter." Then he went back to the English accent he had been using, who knows for what purpose: "So kindly shut your pie hole. Besides your father is dead and from a moral point of view, we could make a very good case of you being responsible for it. You, Light-kun, are guilty of patricide."

Light frowned in disbelief: "What have you done? My father was alive just yesterday!"

"Blimey! You went real back this time, didn't you? Must have been the tongue thing. It was a bit a of a shock to me too. I didn't think you'd had the onions of offing yourself." He looked at him appreciatively: "I'm really impressed, Light-kun."

"You are not making any sense, Ryusaki. If this is some sort of tactic to get me to confess, let me tell you right now that it won't work because I'm not Kira..."

"Don't you ever get bored of being so... you? Probably not since you are so full of yourself. Well, I'm weary of you, boy… I've had enough and I am bored of going over the same lies over and over. So let's skip them and cut to the chase. I'm into a more direct approach than our host. And I don't really care if suddenly gaining the knowledge of what is really going on here breaks you beyond repair. Right now I want to show you a short video I've made from last time. An image is worth a thousand words. Let us watch and enjoy, well you'll watch and I'll enjoy."

There was a mechanical rattle and a shaky image was projected over the white _shoji _wall. Light realized they were in a traditional Japanese room and found some comfort in the thought that L hadn't taken him out of the country. The _shoji _wall had been covered with some dark material so the light wouldn't come through. Again, it felt improvised, but just as the slings it was effective. What was going on? Light wondered, but he bid his time.

"I did the film with a Super 8 film camera, so you'll have to pardon the amateurish look. You'll also have to overlook the bothersome auras around us, it is a rather special piece of machinery. Nothing is straightforward in this bloody shop. Apparently the camera captures some form of EM field related to emotions. You'll notice you are yellow and I'm red, who'd have thought that traditional mood colors had some actual rational behind them? Though the colors I'm seeing may very well be due to the way I'm decoding information. Do you see the same colors I do, Light-kun?"

"I don't know what you are playing at, but…"

L held Light's head, so it wouldn't budge and slapped him: "Answer the question."

Light spat out: _"Fuzakeru na!_"

L slapped him a bit more forcefully and said: "Wrong answer. I can keep slapping you, if that is what you want."

"I'm white and you are black."

L paused pensively while opening a box of Hello Panda chocolate biscuits: "That is interesting. Not quite what I expected. But I only have a superficial knowledge of the psychology of color and its cultural nuances" He bothered his thumb in his mouth: "Hmm… I'd have to have a closer look at the camera. But that will have to wait until the break. Right now what I wanted to point out is that the footage is raw. That means it has not been altered in any way."

Light scoffed: "I know what raw footage means, Ryuzaki."

"Do you now? And would you happen to know what gagged means? I don't want to do it, because it is more fun if you can scream. But I will gag you, if you cannot control that mouth of yours. Didn't your mother taught you that if you don't have anything nice to say, you should just shut the fuck up?"

Light exhaled harshly but didn't speak.

"Very well, carrying on: One of the purposes of the devise in your head is to prevent you from closing your eyes. The other purpose is to homage Kubrick's take on A. Burgess' _Clockwork Orange._ That movie always makes me thing of Wammy's Comprehensive…Those innocent days of Pavlovian behaviorism punished by boredom and rewarded with high end confectionery. Who would have thought the afterlife would be so much like it? Oh well, for now, Light-kun, just watch closely or you'll miss the moment when you swallow your tongue to end your misery." He giggled sweetly while munching on the panda cookie he was holding between thumb and forefinger. He punctuated as he licked the chocolate cream filling off his fingers: "That's my favorite part."

And Light was left to wonder if he was talking about him swallowing his tongue or about the chocolate filling. Though that inquiry was short lived inside of the young man's mind. What he was seeing projected on the screen was enough to make anyone go crazy. L was tickling him with a feather and Light seemed to be in incredible pain from it, right until the moment when he had swallowed his own tongue to make it stop.

"What is this? Is this your idea of a joke? It's obvious it is not real. My tongue is intact."

L smiled from ear to ear: "Oh, it is real. And your tongue regenerated because that is the way this place works."

"This place?"

"Yes, this place is special, whenever you die, someone hits the reset button. And, unless you manage to kill me at the same time. I get to see you come back and I'm ready to dance this waltz as many times as necessary, Lord Kira."

"Necessary for what?" Light barked impatiently.

"As many times as necessary to make it up for you killing me. I must warn you that I'm a really sore loser and truly pissed off about it, so this may take a while."

"It can't be real! It makes no sense, you are barely touching me with a feather."

"It's pretty impressive, isn't it? I learnt it during an apprenticeship I had when I was sixteen with an old Romanian lady. Mrs. Dascălu was a former member of the _Securitate_ under Ceauşescu. She was living in Brazil under an assumed name when I met her. She was working as a freelancer specialist for several mob syndicates around the world. Of course the apprenticeship was fake, I had to get near to her to prove her true identity and take her into custody. I mean who could ever believe a 63 years old frail lady could be a mobster? But those eight months I lived with her were very informative. She was quite the charming conversationalist and made one heck of a _Vargabéles_. That is one of the best puddings I've ever tasted in my life. It is made from baked noodles flavored with raisins, vanilla and lemon zest. Truly delish and she made it just right."

Light rose an eyebrow: "I take it that by specialist you don't mean a baker, do you, Ryusaki?"

"Actually Mrs. Dascălu specialized in extracting information from reluctant subjects. Some may have called her a torturer. She was a neurobiologist. In his own twisted way Ceauşescu was a promoter of science, did you know of his three children the daughter was a mathematician and the other two studied physics? He was a bastard as all tyrants are bound to be, but he believed in educating, at least those close to him. Anyways, Mrs. D was fascinated by the nature of pain and went around the world studying it. She passed some time in China, studying ground breaking pain management techniques on third degree burnt patients. She learnt all about the physiological aspects of pain and acupuncture. It is truly fascinating: there are set pathways for the information that conveys pain to travel through your body right to the brain and set responses that block it or enhance it. That is how anesthesia can be done in specific parts of your body for surgeries. Pain is there to help keep you alive, a sharp pain can make you take yourself away from harm's way, so there are high speed highways in your body to convey that information ASAP. But when pain exceeds a certain level it defeats its purpose and the body produces substances that naturally block its passage. It is a very well tuned machine that manages pain within our bodies."

"What are you driving at, Ryusaki? If you think you can scare me..."

"Oh, I know that I can scare you, arsehole. In fact I intend to scare you shitless. There is also a psychological component in the perception of pain. Placebos can work to assuage it, in a very modest way we have all experienced how distracting ourselves can make a physical pain recede. Pain can be enhanced or subdued according to how you learn to manage its effects in your mind. Psychological management is one of the best and often only resources for handling chronic pain. Hence an effective torturer must also take that into account. For example, something that must really help to plunge you into despair is that I'm not trying to extract any information from you, I'm indulging in torture for the pure pleasure of seeing you twist from my string, little fly. So other than to prolong my enjoyment at your predicament for as long as I can, I have no reason to pace myself while I inflict suffering on you."

"I don't care for your derange lesson. Let go of me. Help! Somebody help me!"

"Shouting is pointless there is no one to help you here. In the end you are here to be punished and I'm sick and tire of Watanuki's wishy-washy Buddhism that has prevented him from properly punishing you. That is why I'm going biblical on you, wanker."

Light tried to struggle but the pain and the fear of hurting himself made him stop.

"Believe me, you want me to finish the deranged lesson on the routes of pain, it is of capital importance to you right now. The combination of physiological and psychological factors make pain a really complex response and can also make a sound evolutionary strategy to keep you from harm go horribly wrong. People can feel pain in a limb that they don't longer have. There are syndromes in which pain is present in the absence of any stimuli or misread from a different stimuli, like in the video, the touch of a feather can make you cry out in pain. The conditions that make that possible can be induced with a keen understanding of physiology, psychology and access to substances that mimic those produced by the body. I always carry those substances with me. I was never a boy scout, but I believe in readiness. Apparently I was buried with my backpack. And it seems the Egyptians had some true inklings about the afterlife because my trusty carry on came here with me. For this footage I had injected you with Mrs. Dascălu secret recipe no.1."

Light's eyes narrowed: "You are crazy, a fucking madman. Let me go right now or I swear I'll…"

L laughed meanly: "Or what? You'll kill me? You already have 4,537 times. And even though I've killed you 4,536 times too. I'm still not satisfied. So now we are going to try something else." He picked a syringe and a vial from a tray on a low table: "This is another of Mrs. D concoctions. It is No. 4. and is a whole different approach." As he loaded the syringe and injected the liquid in Light's IV, he said: "This will block your pain response while you remain conscious. Remember the noisome pang when you tried to move?"

Light swallowed, he was beginning to regain his memory of having killed L and it colored what was happening to him in a whole different light. He let out a low growl: "Get to the point, Ryusaki."

"So rude. Well, pain was the only thing between you and badly hurting your spinal cord. Without the feeling of pain you'd be playing a game of chicken that can end with you needing to be spoon fed and wearing diapers or die drowning in your own mucus." L passed his thumb over Light's nose and lips: "That is a really nasty way to go."

"Don't touch me you _hentai_ freak?"

L frowned: "Is that the only insult you know?" He growled: "You know what angers me the most? It is so you. It all goes back to your sense of superiority and your homophobia. I'm either a freak or a pervert or both and deep down my take is that there is a generous measure of envy in both those accusations. You coward never dared live your true desires out in the open. Not as Kira nor in your personal life. Misa-Misa had some interesting insights on that one, given what you like to have done to you in bed. It is truly fascinating how prone to masochism people who are control and power freaks are."

"Shut up, L! Amane wouldn't have talked to you about that."

"Hit a nerve? No more Ryusaki either, good. It makes things easier to be able to talk without our masks on. I'll be frank and tell you what I really think about you. It may enlighten you on the reasons of your failure. Have you ever wondered why I found you so easily or why no government really took it upon them to exterminate you? Do you think that if you had posed a real threat to the status quo they wouldn't have resorted to dropping another fat boy on the Kanto region?"

"They wouldn't have dared! Things are different now, they couldn't have gotten away with it. There are rules and conventions..."

"Cut the bollocks! You can't possibly be so bloody naive!"

"I may be naive, but I killed you, didn't I?" Light growled.

"Oh, so all your memories are coming back. Good. I told him he was being too gentle with you. I can't wait to tell Watanuki I was right. But first: You were a naive idiot, Light-kun. My death was inconsequential in the great scheme of things. Unlike you I'm smart enough to realize that. For the love of… You had power over life or death and you went around killing known criminals to try to drop crime rates. Talk about lowly goals. That's about all that you managed to do! And you felt content by having the approval of other idiots on the internet and by the numbers published dropping. Did you ever questioned those numbers? What prevented governments from tampering with them? Did you take into account the effects of under reporting or how your measures may have promoted further inequality leaving those already vulnerable to crime even more vulnerable? Did you even once question the real effects of your actions, or your government apparent passivity towards a bloody terrorist, or the fairness of your justice system in assigning guilt or the fairness of the economical system you lived in for fostering conditions in which crime thrives? Did any of that ever enter your considerations?"

"They wouldn't have dared lie to Kira!"

"See? A complete _baka_… A high IQ does not equate wisdom. You are a bloody genius and went on to become a copper just like daddy. Because just like all your other life choices that fell neatly inside the box of your small-mindedness. You fucked two local media darlings, because you were more concerned with PR than with actually changing the world. It might be a generational thing, but the image of Kira was more important to you than the content of your so called revolutionary discourse. Stirring the shit pot makes it go round but is not a revolution, mate. Not to mention your petit bourgeois mores made you care so much for what others thought, especially your family, that you lost time and put yourself and them in danger. And look at how well that one went. You screwed up their lives too. Anyone with one ounce of brains and true morals would have walked away the moment they had the Death Note in their power and decided to use it at such scale. If it had been me I'd gone to a foreign exchange in school, faked my death in a car accident and gone into hiding so that my love ones wouldn't be involved. But, of course, you could murder left and right, but god forbid you stole a corpse or some money to make a living while you set up a better false identity…That would have been well beyond your scope. You lack imagination and all your ethics are trite rote knowledge, because you have never bothered to question them and make them your own. My teenage successors had more morals and resourcefulness in their pinky fingers than you have in your whole body. But they were forged of a better steel that's why they won."

"I'm not a thief, nor a crazy freak. You really want to discuss morals? And Mello and Near were worse than you." He stopped cold: "Wait what do you mean they have won?"

"Really, your defeat is what you don't remember? Why am I not surprised? And you don't see that you are a worse crazy than us, do you? You are a bloody monster, guilty of genocide and patricide, you sent your sister to the loony bin, crushed your mother's spirit and sent your lovers to death. Whoever dared follow you was used as an expendable tool. You plunged the world into disarray without bettering the life of one single human being, not even you, because all the really guilty people you killed were already in the justice system. You were not the god of justice but the god of petty revenge. And it was all for nothing, what little you had managed to do became ashes when Matsuda killed you. Your sole legacy is in hands of lowlife fanatics desperate to relinquish their free will to the hands of the next crooked messiah. Yeah, how does that make you feel, knowing that you have left nothing of value in the world; that Matsuda pulled the trigger and Ryuk wrote you off?"

"You are nothing but a liar, this is not true. I refuse to believe it!" Light protested.

L laughed goodheartedly: "You had a hard time grasping reality even back when you were alive. Besides, I won't deny that I am a bloody liar, when it is of service to me. But right here is a mind tease for you: What could I gain by lying to you now? You know you have killed me and yet here I am. Is it so hard to accept that you are dead too? You kicking the bucket is probably the only good thing you have done for the world. You thought of yourself as a godly ruler and yet you have never questioned the nature of the world or even your own world. It is my honest opinion that if by some fluke you had actually managed to take over, you wouldn't have had the first clue about what to do. I don't even think you understand what ruling the world means."

"I made the lives of thousands better. That is why I earned their adoration and why I am more fit to rule the world than anyone else I know."

"Oh of course the worldly gentleman is more fit than the handful of people he knows from passing twenty one years in his freaking neighborhood and he derives his certainty from a bunch of wankers who gave him a like on the world wide web. Are you listening to yourself?"

Light humphed indignantly.

"Come on! Tell me Light Yagami, do you actually feel capable of ruling over the lives and destinies of 6,600,000,000 of people? I for once would like to know where do you stand on equal rights, health care, managing the problem of hunger, or of poverty, or the problem of climate change, or the problem of finite resources? It is obvious to me that you feel not one of those 6,600,000,000 have a say on how they are to be ruled and that is a big problem. For starters it indicates you have a really poor grasp of the nature of humanity and of your own capabilities. Where do you get your confidence? What are your credentials, arsehole? Can you even grasp the magnitude of what you pretended to undertake with nothing but a deathly weapon and the gullible worship of the uneducated masses as the only tools at your disposal? You are not even original. Do you have a clue of how many egomaniac son of bitches had trodden that very same path? Or did all your history lessons only serve you to get a good grade in your national exams?"

Light glowered at L: "You've been gone for a while: The populations estimates are closer to 7,000,000,000 now."

"Worse still. Take a really harsh look at yourself and tell me, do you really think a boy that has barely ever left the small corner of the world in which he was born and who has never bothered to mentally step outside of his comfort zone is really app to rule over the world? Even if you limited yourself to Japan: Leadership imposes its toll to the ruler, for whether he likes it or not his life comes to be at the service of the crown. Your head is too weak to bear it. Especially because you fail to understand one basic true: To keep your rule over agents with free will means you are giving them a minimum living standard, so they don't turn against you, there is just so many people you can kill before the mass chokes you. Besides, how can someone who fundamentally despises humanity want to devote his life to servicing it? Can't you spot the fundamental contradiction of it? Having a philosophy and ideology matters, you wanker. Next time make the effort to develop one that goes beyond_ I'm a good little trooper who believes everything my daddy told me, unless it bores me or bothers me, then my ethics fly out of the window._"

Light started to say something.

"Hush. Mine were rhetorical questions. I don't expect you to answer, I know you don't have the real intelligence, self-awareness or the humility to do so rightfully. When I look at you without the needy googles on, you disgust me so deeply I want to barf."

Light sniggered: "Then we are well met. You disgust me too, shaggy hound dog. You can cut your yapping right now. I'm not listening to you anymore."

"Do not dare compare me to you! I'm nothing but a hound, bred to be set upon the prey that my masters tell me to, but I at least did think about what my masters asked me to do before doing it. And I often questioned them or outright disobeyed them, if their orders went against my grain. I honestly tried to be of service to the world while servicing myself. How could I have mistaken you for an equal? It is beyond me!"

"You think you are my equal? _Bakabakashii!_" Light scoffed mockingly.

"I couldn't agree more. Incidentally your lack of foresight is what got you killed in the end." He laughed meanly: "That is all that it took to bring down god Kira, a couple of well trained puppies and a dumbarse with a gun. You could never be anything but what your narrow vision of the world allowed you to be. How, how is it possible that I let a stupid immature idiot with no imagination best me? But I already know the answer. You cheated by using a bloody lovestruck Shinigami, talk about d_eux ex machina_. I'm also guilty for letting you get away with it because I was set on playing by the book and because I had some considerations towards your father. I should have known better!"

L had also wanted to live up to Watari's expectations, and to Misora's and even H's. And he had been so pathetically desperate for some kind of connection with someone that he had played right into the bastard's hands… Bile rushed to his mouth and L swallowed it. He took a deep breath and held his own wrist to self sooth: "There is no point in dwelling on the past. We should look towards the future. And what the immediate future has in store for you are some very rough hours. I'd tell you to meditate on our little chat, but I think you are going to be too busy for that."

"What the hell does that mean?"

He took out a blue adhesive tape, cut one piece and stuck it to one of the slings, then he took another piece and stuck it to Light's forehead: "See these tapes? As long as they are aligned you know that your head and back are in the right position, you should better try to hold yourself exactly like that."

He went behind Light's back. Light Yagami was on edge and his senses were heightened by the adrenaline rush, he could hear him cutting another piece of tape and then that crazy man took off his socks and grabbed his naked right foot.

L said: "God, someone needs to clip his toenails more carefully. Those feet are a disgrace, mate. You have to leave a little bit of nail on each toe."

"The day I take grooming advise from you will be the day hell freezes, _aho_."

"I'm just saying that can't be healthy. Your toes look like stumps, you might want to consider going around shoeless once in a while too. I don't really give a fuck about your health, though. So, moving on. I want you to feel this other tape with your big toe like this. Got it? I need you to answer while you do it, it is important."

"I've got it." He replied as he touched the tape.

"Very good. As long as you can feel the tape with your right toe and you keep your left foot parallel to the right one, you will know that your lower body is correctly aligned too. If you don't hold your position exactly this way, since you cannot feel pain you might end up damaging your spine. I don't want you to experience respiratory problems so I have set up slings to support your torso and carry your weight. But your legs or feet can get twisted in a way that prevents circulation and damages them too. As I said, we lack the materials here for any complex procedure. If your legs or feet get compression gangrene the best we will be able to do is cut them off. And you are screwed if your spine gets hurt."

Light shivered and L felt pleasant anticipation. It was time for comeuppance.

He smiled: "If I were you, Light-kun, I'd do my best to keep in this precise position. If what Misa-Misa said was true, you like being tied up. There is a catch, though, as Mrs. D injection starts to wear off the pain is going to come back with a vengeance. If you are a really good boy and beg me, I may inject you with a little more when that happens. Think you'll feel like begging when the time comes? _Oiike desu ka,_ Lord Kira?"

"_Kusokurae!_"

"It takes so very little for the bully to shine through your headboy masquerade." He pulled away a single strand of hair that had fallen over Light's forehead: "Everything about you is so phony. Your hair looks just like a wig. How long does it take you to achieve that careless look every morning?"

"Fuck you!"

"You'd wish. Not to brag, but it would really blow your mind. After all the biggest sex organ is the brain and I'm really flexible in all sort of really good ways."

"Are you trying to make me puke?"

L chuckled: "You are the one who brought it up. Very well, back to our present engagement, Light-chan: The fun part is that if you try to end this quickly you may very well end up making yourself even more helpless. I'm kind of hoping you do. How do you fancy me for the sexy nurse that changes your diaper, mate?" L winked: "Though perhaps that is what you want, deep down…" L lowered his voice and drawled, breathing hot air in Light's ear: "Really deep."

Light started to pull back but then he went wide-eye and quickly realigned the blue tape as best as he could: "This is cheating. This is underhanded even for you, L"

L shrugged it off: "You are probably right. I'm done with fair-play. Acting gentlemanly is wasted on you. Now, I only have to turn on the camera and the second round can officially begin. My bet is you won't make it until the injection wears off. Care to prove me wrong?"

Light Yagami didn't bother answering, he was set on surviving; all his attention focused on keeping the blue tapes properly aligned. Well, not really, about 95 percent of his focus was set on that and the rest was figuring out how he was going to exact his revenge on the_ hentai _freak. When his turn came, he was going to make that _aho_ beg for his life.

* * *

Kimihiro Watanuki woke up feeling groggy, with a sour metallic taste in his mouth. He remembered laying in his bed and waking to the sound of someone cautiously opening his _fusuma_. Lawlite, for it couldn't have been anyone else, moved with catlike speed, he had ran towards his bed and, as Watanuki was rising on his _futon_, he had pressed a rag over his nose and mouth. He had plunged into darkness and woke up to find himself trapped inside a spider web of worsted yarn.

In the pitch black of the storage room in which he was being held, he looked at the yarn with his dull blue left eye, the yarn glowed with a sickly white light. It was the color of the lights in mortuaries and operation theaters. If he closed his left eye and looked with his golden brown right eye, which shared half of Dōmeki's psychic vision, he could see the blood red letters dripping over it. He could barely read the script for the language it was written in had been swept by the sands of time along with the wicked people who had conceived it and with good reason. The smell of those dripping letters made him want to vomit. Oh boy, he was in a pinch. What was it about him and spiders? One had taken his eye, once upon a time, as a token of his recklessness, and now this.

He quickly realized that foolish Englishman had tried to cast a binding spell on him. Good thing Lawlite didn't know his full name, his other self, Tsubasa Li, the wings, was still free. This yarn was a particularly powerful evil and Kimihiro Watanuki would have been in real trouble if it weren't for his dual nature. It was so like Lawlite to act without full knowledge of the power he was harnessing and with no care for the consequences to be paid for wielding it. Impatient fool, he was still rushing into things after all he had gone through. Watanuki must be a really poor teacher if he hadn't been able to teach that lesson to the detective. But if he had taught it already, they might not have been where they were.

Watanuki felt his temper raising, but before he allowed it to run wild, he remembered the words that his father, or perhaps himself, at some points it was hard to tell who was who, had said through the veil of time and space: _Please, act according to your beliefs._ It was easier to let anger run wild than it was to hold onto his beliefs in harmony and righteousness in order to be able to pull the reins of his mind. But only one of those choices follows the golden path. And the path we walk is just as important as the destination.

Kimihiro Watanuki heir to Clow and Yukō and known in some realities as Tsubasa Li, heir to Sakura and Syaoran, let the anger wash through his body, accepting it but not holding onto it. He consciously relaxed each and every muscle and as he did the yarn loosened its grip and left him just enough room to be able to sit in the middle of the web assuming the lotus position.

He breathed long deep breathes and quieted his mind to enter a state of profound meditation. In the final, peaceful exhalation before he did, a pair of golden butterfly wings flew from his slightly parted lips. The wings drew a circle around the spider web, locking it in to prevent it from spreading out and went to hang from the yarn, right above his head. They then slowly became a silver cocoon. From it a thousand golden caterpillars would come forth and do away with the yarn, for time and space only have one direction for those bounded by karma. For those who don't walk towards dissolution, time-space is full with shortcuts and rabbit holes where the rules bend. And creation and destruction are an ouroboros that bites its own tail. If you understand how something is made you have the key to undoing it. And for eternal things that cannot be really undone, well for them even the butterfly can come before the caterpillar.

The crossroad of quite a few of those rabbit holes in time-space passed through Yukō's shop. In his heightened state of consciousness he felt a roughness around that thought. It seemed misshapen. He didn't need to feel at the texture to know why. This was not Yukō's shop anymore and his inability to accept that was part of the reasons why he now found himself in this pinch. He knew that he had been avoiding thinking about it. He had been busying himself in other, less important pursues. But now he had time to ponder. He had time until the time was right to get free.

He didn't worry about Light Yagami for his destiny was linked to L Lawlite. Let them tear each other to pieces, nothing could change that. And in the odd case they managed to destroy each other; that would be hitsuzen and good riddance to both of them. He was slightly more worried about Moru, Maru and the Mokonas, but he assuage his worries thinking that they were a crafty lot. He smiled at the thought of his companions, they were probably hiding inside a pocket, drinking while munching on the food he had cooked last night and waiting for him to get back to them so they could yell at him for letting himself be trapped like a butterfly. He doubted Lawlite had harmed them… Though if he had… Anger swelled up again and once more he let it cruise by. There would be time to take care of that too.

Time was the nature of his magic and as a wizard that was therefore the nature of his being. In this particular meantime The Time Wizard Kimihiro Watanuki took a pause to meditate on the steps that had taken him where he presently was, for before finding your way out, it is always helpful to trace your way in first.

_AN: To all readers, thanks for reading. Watanuki's turn will come next chapter. I'm rooting for him to be able to pull L back from the dark place while sticking to his beliefs. To the pack: here it is guys, comeuppance just like we talked over those really mean vodka shots. Oddly enough revenge was not as satisfying as I thought it would be… _

_Eleutherius, my man, I know your sense of humor is darker than mine so I think at least you'll enjoy this. Plus our pack has been wanting bloody revenge ever since L got killed. Anyways, I enjoyed so much our talk on the physiology of pain that I just had to use it for a fic. I cannot think of any other two people that get to talk about things like that over vodka shots. It is so us. Aging can often make you second guess who you are and knowing we still are very much like when we were younger is a good thing to know._

_Anyways, Sanhaim blessings and happy hunts for you, Lefty. Let's hear it for the leader of the pack *insert picture of huge October moon and soundtrack of our lively group of aspie werewolves drunkenly howling and crooning The Who's Love Reign O'er Me.* And yeah I know it is already November, but this took a bit longer than I thought it would, guess despite my love for gory dark manga, I don't really have a taste for torture, something that on hindsight, I'm really grateful for._


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